


The power of Words: The Words of the first Deal

by TheUsagi1995



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (chapter 30), 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs (chapter 3 and later on), Bottom Sam, Breaking Up & Making Up, Crying, Dean Winchester Loves Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester in Love, Dean is 21, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Hand jobs (chapter 3 and later on), Happy Ending, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt Sam Winchester, Injured Dean Winchester (Mentioned), John Finds Out, Kissing, Lies, Light Angst (in later chapters), Light Bondage, M/M, Making Love, Masturbation in Shower, Mentions of Blood, Morning Cuddles, Mutual Masturbation, Nightmares, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Other: See Story Notes, Protective Dean Winchester, Rimming, Sam Winchester Loves Dean Winchester, Sam is 17, Sam makes a deal, Sam/Dean - Freeform, Shower Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Song Lyrics, Supernatural Elements, Supportive Bobby, Suspicious John, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform, blindfolded Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 132,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7017937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUsagi1995/pseuds/TheUsagi1995
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "The Power of Words" But I think you can read it as a stand alone as well.<br/>After the events which take place between Sam and John the boys are heading to Bobby's. John though, is suspicious of their relationship and tries to find out what is really going on between his sons.<br/>When John and Bobby leave for a hunt, the boys are finally left alone for two days, in a place which is not a cheap motel room. In those two days Dean will give Sam his present for his upcoming birthday. A present which involves ties, a bed and Dean's magical hands tongue and... other stuff.<br/>But when Bobby and John come home earlier than expected, Sam will have to make an impossible choice.<br/>In order to protect Dean and not rob him of his father, Sam makes with him, what he will later in life remember as "The first Deal." A deal, which will cost him the most important thing he has. His relationship with Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Words that imply suspicions...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!!! So, sorry for the long hiatus, but i have to study for the univercity!!!! Once again, and i will never stop saying that, THANK YOU ALL, for all your kudos and comments on my stories. I hope you enjoy them! I apologize for my various spelling mistakes but i am Not a native speaker and i also have a problem memorizing spelling, regardless of the language. (Believe me, this is happening in Greek, English, French and Spanish.... And it gets in my nerves!) But unfortunatelly there is nothing i can do about it, save double check my stories. I am sorry if this disturbs you.  
> Anyway...
> 
> Lets get on with it!
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> 1)Non-canonon event, language, and Wincest (Sam/Dean)  
> 2) The rating WILL go up in chapter 3 but i will put up a warning there too!  
> 3)Sam/Dean (Established relationship)  
> 3)Sam is 17, Dean is 21  
> 4) I own nothing, neither the Supernatural series, nor its characters. Only my...vivid imagination! No Money are made by this.  
> So,off we go! A//N

The night was clear and quiet, a gentle breeze was blowing, caressing the trees and their leaves, bringing with it the smell of spring. A smell of flowers, fresh water, and moist soil. Dean inhaled deeply, taking in as much of this smell as possible. For some reason, whenever this smell of spring reached his nose flashes of a spring years ago would pass before his eyes. Like random parts of a movie they would appear; faces and places, all blurred, images of a life he once had. His mother, young and beautiful smiling down at him, his father, so different than the one Sam had come to know...

 

His face was softer, his eyes filled with kindness and love... And in their arms they held a baby...They held Sam. And Sam wouldn't stop crying, not until he was placed in Dean's little hands. Then he would stop. And Dean could remember himself moving towards the open window slowly and taking a deep breath, taking in the smell of spring. Yes, it was spring back then too... It was the 15th of May 1983...

 

But no matter how hard Dean tried, he couldn't remember anything else from that day. He was too young back then...Dean's emerald green eyes blurred and the older hunter had to blink the tears away. He shoke his head and fixed his eyes on the road. It was pointless to try and remember more of those days, that, he knew for sure. 

 

So, he tried his best to keep this particular memory alive, tried his best, to not let it fade away and become part of a dream Dean wished he had lived, because this wasn't a dream. It was real. The older man let out a sigh and moved his right hand to where Sam was lying, head on his lap and body curled in a ball to fit in, on the front seat of the Impala. Dean run his fingers through brown locks, while his left hand grabbed the wheel for dear life. 

 

The older man was driving slower than he could. He knew that with him behind the wheel of his “Baby” the distance between Omaha, which was the state they were at, and Souix Faulls could easily be covered in two hours and twenty minutes tops. But the older man kept himself in check for two reasons. The first was that the smell of spring evoked all those memories and Dean ended up pulling off the car to catch his breath and clear his eyes from their blur. The second reason was that he didn’t want to wake Sam up.

 

The kid had finally drifted off to a more peaceful sleep than the one he was in at the first half hour of the drive, as soon as Dean’s fingers started running through curly brown hair. Of course the older hunter would never admit this aloud, but he loved this feeling of Sam cuddling on him, this closeness, this trust between them. And he was glad for the darkness which was surrounding the highway, since, it hid both his blush as well as his smile…

 

The night had now fallen for good and the road was rather empty, given the fact that it was the middle of March. Dean’s green eyes glanced at the screen of his mobile phone. It said 11:14, which meant he was driving for two hours and ten minutes now, and still had 83 miles to cover. This was not a problem for the middle Winchester, as he was used to long drives. Well, it wasn’t a problem up to the moment two bright lights, illuminated the car from behind. The older man glanced at the driver’s mirror and froze. 

 

The car which was behind them was no other than John’s... “How the hell did he caught up with us?” the middle Winchester swore under his breath as he slowly pulled the Impala off the road, obeying to his father’s nods, which he could see from the mirror.

 

“Shit, shit,shit…’’ Dean swore repeatedly, as a feeling of fear and agony rose up in his chest. Were John to find Sam lying on the front seat with his head on Dean's lap, then they would both be in trouble. A need to wake Sam up overtook the older hunter, he couldn’t risk their dad seeing them so close, or the possibility of him waking Sam up. No, anything but that. 

 

Dean knew from experience their dad lacked, that when Sam was woken up with a shout or a hard shake, he would get scared and his puppy dog eyes would be filled with fear and guilt. If the one staring back at him was Dean, which was the case most of the times, Sam would need a moment, a moment Dean would gladly give him, to take a few slow breaths and let his eyes take in the image of his brother, alive and kicking, with his hand on his shoulder, with his kind green eyes filled with love and care for him. 

 

Dean would rarely speak to Sam, he would just sit there, letting his younger sibling come back to him, back from a place of nightmares, a place where most of the times Dean had died horribly. But if the one waking Sam up was John, then the younger man would be on edge all day long.

 

So, as much as Dean may have hated it, he had no choice but to wake his brother up. “Sam hey, wake up buddy.’’ he said, voice low, yet urgent. “Stop it... what…” Sam muttered as his eyes opened wide. “Hey, easy, it's me Sammy, just me, come on now, wake up...” Dean said, voice calmer than before. “Are we at Bobby’s yet?” Sam murmured, voice sleepy. “No, Sam dad is right behind us, he wants me out of the car, probably to talk to me.’’ Dean answered back, placing his palm on Sam’s chest reassuringly, to prevent the younger man from moving too fast. 

 

“Dad? How did he caught-” “We don’t have time for this, i don’t know how, or to be honest, i do know, but we’ll save it for later. I will keep his attention on me, so as soon as you get a chance you will go to the back seat, alright?” the older man said, voice, once again, urgent.

 

“Dean, i have to talk to him.” “No, you will stay in the car, do i make myself clear? I don’t want to get another punch anytime soon.” Dean said half joking, but Sam, whose mind was still fogged by sleep, did not understand the meaning of what his brother was saying. But before Sam could utter another word, Dean was out of the car.

 

“Dad, you need anything?’’ the green eyed man asked, his voice rather edgy. “I spoke to Bobby, he said that what killed the young boys is a witch, and he said he found some lore about how to kill her.” The older man answered while giving Dean a thin old book. “What’s this?’’ asked Dean, his voice filled with more anger than he thought he had put in the sentence. 

 

“A book, as you can see, which I found in my stuff, it contains information about witches in general.” “Why bother with it? Bobby has a tone of books, he may have this one as well.” Said the middle Winchester.

 

“Dean, i said nothing earlier, when you stormed out of the house, and decided to head out to Bobby’s. But enough is enough, you will not talk to me like this again! Now, this book is the lore about witches like the one we hunt. So, if your brother can do us the honor to get out of the car and translate this, it would be a good thing.” John yelled loud enough for Sam to hear.

 

After a few seconds in which Sam didn't make an appearance, John decided to take matters into his own hands and started moving towards the Impala. Dean's eyes widened as he saw his father turning around. His body moved in a blink of an eye, if not faster, his right hand grabbing John's wrist in a vice-like grip. “Haven't you caused enough damage for one day dad? Let Sam get some rest, he was a wreck when I found him!” the middle Winchester said, his voice filled with bitterness.

 

“Oh, for the love of God Dean! Stop being such a drama queen! Sam is fine, he is not made of glass like you think and a few true declarations will not kill him! He is not a kid anymore Dean, he can't, he is not allowed, to sit with you on the front seat, with his head on your lap, or do you think I didn't noticed that?”John said freeing his wrist from Dean's hold as if it was the hold of a five year old child. 

 

The younger man froze for a splinted second and had to blink his eyes in order to keep his self under control and not freak out. But as soon as he did so, the image of Sam, kneeling on the road, wet to the bone, and crying, begging for forgiveness, hit him like lightning. No, he never wanted to see his brother like that again, he wouldn't allow anything, or any one, to mess him up like that again. Not even their dad. 

 

“Not... Not allowed? Since when do the 'normal rules' apply to our way of life dad? I am his brother and i will-” But the middle Winchester stopped talking the second he heard the door of the Impala opening and then closing again. He turned his face towards the car, even though he already knew what he would see.

 

Sam was moving towards them, his hazel eyes shining. Hell, those eyes, tired, red rimmed, yet so very alive, tear filled- but not tear dropping- puppy dog eyes. Those eyes, which could make Dean surrender to Sam in a million ways, remained the same, ever since Sam was three years old. And now they were fixed on Dean... 

 

With his bottom lip quivering, probably from exhaustion, Sam had to clear his throat in order to speak. “You don't have to yell dad, now give me the book and lets keep going.” Sam said voice surprisingly calm. 

 

“Its in Latin I want you to translate as much as possible until we reach Sioux Falls.” The older man ordered his son. “What? No, dad its late, he can do it tomorrow morning-” “I said, now, Sam.” John repeated leaving no space for an argument. Sam's hazel eyes were still red rimmed but he said nothing, he just waved his head in approval and pleaded Dean with those astonishing puppy dog eyes to follow him in the car. 

 

The older hunter did indeed, follow Sam, but after a few seconds, John's voice echoed loud and clear in the air. “Sam you will sit on the back seat of the car.” “Excuse me?” Dean asked, sure he had misheard. “You heard me son, Sam takes the back seat.” The splinted second that followed silence could be cut with a knife. “Dad what-” “Do you think of him as a freaking taxi driver dad? Is that what your son is now?” Sam said and Dean could swear he heard the crack of Sam's neck as he turned around to face their dad. 

 

Oh, how he secretly admired Sam, for his ability to stand up to their father, to stand up, not only for himself, but for Dean as well.“He is, if I say he is.” John answered and Dean felt like he had been slapped. “Words do mean so much more...” Sam had said a few hours ago, and now the green eyed man could finally understand him.

 

“No, I won't do it.” Sam said glaring at their dad. “Fine, as you wish Sam, there is always an other way to do this.” John answered and in three large steps he covered the distance between him and the boys and moved his hand to grab Sam's wrist. 

 

The younger man tensed and got ready to do something, anything, in order to avoid his father vice-like grip, because he knew what would come next. John would make him join him in the car he was driving. But before he could do something, he felt strong, callused hands pushing him aside and saw Dean placing himself in the middle. 

 

Sam's eyes widen as they took in what was happening. Once again, Dean was using himself as a shield, standing between Sam and their dad.“If you ever, I mean, ever, try to put your hands on him...” Dean whispered, once again grabbing John's hand, “If you ever touch a hair out of his head, dad, I swear...You will come face to face with the perfect grunt you have created.” Dean said, voice low, threatening. 

 

“There it is again, that voice and that move which seems to be automatic.”thought John. In the past two and a half hours, the older man had started piecing things together. Things which had been right there, before his eyes, for more than a year now. The way Dean behaved around Sam, the little, almost casual touches, the protectiveness his older son had when it came to Sam... And the final piece was what had happened earlier that day. 

 

The way Sam talked about Dean, the determination and passion the devotion and love were clear in his voice as he spoke. Then, the way Dean stormed out of the house... At first John thought he was delusional, but now he could see what was happening between his sons. And the picture which was starting to appear, more complete now than before, made him sick. 

 

The older man sighed in defeat, a defeat he wanted, because even now, there was a part of him which opposed to the thoughts of Sam and Dean being together. After all, he hadn't see them doing something. Dean let go of his father's hand and the older man stepped backwards and then turned around heading towards his own car. 

 

The two boys did the same, as soon as John had close the car's door. They returned to the Impala and both sat on the front seat of the car, waiting for their father to start of the engine of his own and lead the way. “Hey, Sam...What you said out there, to dad... it was... I mean...Thank y-” Dean started to say but before he could utter one more word, the younger man interrupted him.

 

“Don't you ever say that again.” “Say what, Sam?” the older man asked as he started the car. “That you are nothing more than a grunt. 'Cause, you are not, you are so much more.” Sam whispered, but left no room for an answer because the very next second he opened the thin book their dad had given him and buried his nose in it. 

 

“Sam, you don't have to-” “You heard him, Dean. I am doing what he... 'ordered'. I am saving you from the trouble of getting another punch in the face any time soon. Which, as you know, you would have gotten, had dad been less sober.” the younger man said, eyes fixed on the book. “As long as I am the one getting it, I don't give a crap Sammy.” Dean thought.

 

Dean signed, but said nothing, this wasn't neither the right place, nor the right time for an answer. So, the green eyed mam, did what he could do at the moment. He turned on the radio, lowered the volume so as not to disturb Sam from his reading and translation of the book, and fixed his eyes on the long road, which was seemingly spreading as far as the eye could see. 

 

He grabbed the wheel and seeded up the car, with only one thought of comfort in his head. That somewhere down that endless road, Bobby's house was waiting for them.


	2. Words said to "A father"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Dean opens up to Bobby, the only person he can talk to about what is going on with him and Sam, John encounters Sam once again. This time he leaves an angry bruise on his wrist and unfortunatelly for the younger man, Dean notices it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the second chapter!! Hope you enjoy it!

The rest of the ride until Sioux Falls was quiet,too quiet, for Dean's liking. Despite the radio playing “Top 20” of the week, Dean had the feeling that everything around him were quiet. He could hear the characteristic “cracky” sound of a pencil touching old paper, as Sam took notes of the Latin text which was written on it. He could also hear the pattern of his brother's breathing, a pattern which he, also didn't like. Shallow and hard was his breathing, a clear sign that Sam was pushing himself to his limits. But the older man knew him well, Sam was stubborn up to the bone, there was just no way in Hell, he would stop now. 

 

And the green eyed man knew the reason why. It had nothing to do with obeying to what their father had told him to do, it was more guilt and fear than obedience, driving Sam's actions right then. Yes, guilt, because no matter what Dean had said, he knew that Sam would always hold himself responsible for the death of their mother. And fear; not for what John could do to Sam, Dean knew that this wasn't what his brother was afraid of. Sam was afraid of what John could do if he ever learned about their not-so-normal relationship. Thus, the younger man had stepped back, and had took on the task of translating the God-damned book, despite being way too tired.

 

As the hour grew late, the moon which was illuminating the night sky, was slowly, but steadily, moving west, creating big and scary shadows along the way. The air was now colder, drier, and thicker than before, caring with it, not the smells of rain and spring, but the chill of the late night's mist. The road was dark, save the few illuminated windows, or door steps, of houses near it. Those, and Sam's small flashlight were the only sources of light Dean saw for almost fifty minutes...

 

Dean sighed in relief as he took the all too familiar right turn which lead to Bobby's house. As expected, Bobby was standing at the door, clothes, hat and shoes on, despite the fact it was past midnight. John was the first to get out of his car and greet Bobby. “You seem tired.” commented John, voice rather edgy. “Damn strait I am, this stupid witch you hunt is a tough one.” Answered Bobby.

 

“Well, that's why I got Sammy here to do a little translating for us, right son?” the older Winchester asked as soon as the two boys were out of the car. “Hello boys.” “Hi Bobby, how you doing?” asked Dean who was the first one to reach the door. “I' m fine, don't worry... You on the other hand look like a zombie Sam.” Bobby said,eyes scanning Sam's tired ones and slightly shivering body. “ I am fine Bobby, don't mind me.” “I mind you boy, you could easily be, my son, so if a guy like me won't mind you, who will?” came the answer from the older man. 

 

Sam inhaled, shot a venomous glance at John, and opened his mouth to answer back, but ended up closing it, as soon as he felt Dean's hand resting on his waist. The younger man took it as a warning sign and kept his mouth shut, but the real reason Dean had done this was to control Sam's shivers as much as possible. “Anyway, enough talk, get inside, you ijits.” Bobby said in an attempt to ease the obvious tension between father and son. 

 

The three Winchesters past the threshold, John leading the way, while Sam and Dean followed him. And then happened what Dean expected that would. Sam relaxed, the safety this house had always given them was enough to calm him down and to ease his troubled mind with happier memories. Bobby's sharp eyes didn't miss Dean's hand on the back of Sam's waist. The older man smiled to himself, all too aware of the situation between the two boys. “You idjits, you are going to kill me someday, and it ain't gonna be far from this one...” he thought to himself and closed the door behind him.

 

Upon entering the house, a house Sam called home, the younger man inhaled deeply, savoring the, all too familiar sent of old books, dust, good whiskey and... “Bobby, did you cook? It smells like fried chicken in here.” Sam heard Dean's surprised voice echoing from the kitchen, and smiled, knowing that his brother loved this house as well. His gaze fell on Bobby's desk, an old wooden desk, which was covered in different types of books. In a small unoccupied corner was a glass of 'Johnny', the old man's favorite drink. The fact that the desk ended at some point didn't mean the books ended as well. All around the desk, were books and old papers, lying there on the floor, describing various spells, rituals and the like. Hazel eyes moved to a small couch, which was placed near the wall. “This wasn't here last time.” Sam thought to himself. 

 

But before the younger man could think of anything else,John's sharp voice brought him back to reality, destroying all sense of safety and calm the house had given him. “Sammy, are you done with the book?” he asked, in a voice that implied he was still pissed. “Where are Bobby and Dean?” “In the kitchen, Bobby needed to talk to Dean about the hunt we are on, after he is done, we get to eat Sammy.” John informed his youngest. “Its 'Sam.' And ,no, there are a few sentences left which I haven't translated yet.” Sam shot back. 

 

“Its 'Sammy' for Dean, so its for me too.” John answered. “I am not going to argue with you, not now dad, I have had enough for one day, and, for the record? Only Dean gets to call me that.” Sam said, determination in his voice. His eyes shined and his face lit up. What Sam couldn't understand though, was that this reaction was giving his father way too many clues regarding what was going on between them. “So, you are saying...you wouldn't even let Mary call you that?”

 

Sam froze, his body tensed and his breath was caught in his throat. John's keen eyes scanned Sam, waiting for the answer. He knew he was pushing the boundaries too much, but he also knew he had to make one of the boys mad in order to get them to spill what exactly was going on between them. He knew this wasn't the best way, but honestly, he couldn't come up with something better. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen

“So, you mind telling me what's going on?” “What do you mean 'what's going on' Bobby, nothing is-” but the middle Winchester stopped talking as soon as the older man stared at him with eyes which seemed to be able to see right through him... “I have known John for a long time boy, as I also have known Sam... And you. Now, humor me, but, I have never seen them like that before. Is there any chance...?” 

 

The rest of the sentence remained unspoken, but Dean didn't have to hear it. “No, no way Bobby, he doesn't know about...well, you know, me and Sam.” Said Dean, lowering his voice. “But if he ever learns... I don't know what will happen, what he will do...” the green eyed hunter's voice faded and his heart sank in an ocean of fear, at the thought of their dad finding out about them.“Listen son, John may not have been the father of the year, but he damn tries to do his best for you both. If he ever learns about you and Sam, it may take him some time to process the fact, he may yell at you, he may storm out of the house, but eventually, he will come to terms with it. Much like I did. He loves you, Dean.”

 

Dean sighed, a chocked sound which resembled a laughter, but was not one, emerged from his throat. “Oh yeah? Because it sure didn't seemed like it today. Hell, it almost never seems like he loves us Bobby! And believe me, I am trying my best, every fucking time dad and Sam have a fight, to remind myself of all the crap that he has been through, of all the hardships and the pain he has lived. And this mantra is the only damn thing which keeps me from crushing down Bobby.” Dean whispered as bright, watery green eyes met brown ones.

 

“Not the only thing son. You love him and so does Sam. The package sucks, I know. But this is what you get when you are a hunter with kids Dean. I know its not good, or enough but you three, you have each other, you are a family.” Bobby said and put some food on the plates which Dean had earlier placed on the small table. “No Bobby, if there is one more thing holding me together, that is not my love for dad. Its my love for Sam and more importantly, his love for me. And call me a sadistic, twisted bastard, but for as long as Sam wants us to be together, we will be.”

 

Bobby sighed and rested his back on the wall, eyes scanning Dean's. “Ok, alright... So, before you shut down to your 'no chick flick moments rule' tell me what happened today.” Dean sighed in defeat, and told everything to the older man, a man he called 'father' in his sleep.

BACK IN THE LIVING ROOM  
“Mom can't call me that because she is not alive. If she was alive we wouldn't have this life, she wouldn't want this for us dad.” Sam said voice low. And, you know, an apology wouldn't cost you as much.” Sam shot back, voice filled with bitterness. “I am not the one who couldn't keep mom safe.” He continued, his voice nothing more than a whisper. Before he could utter another word though, John grabbed his wrist so hard, that Sam squirmed in pain. 

 

“You don't get to talk to me like that again. Do I make myself clear? I am your father and you will treat me with more respect.” John said, temper rising dangerously. His tough hands were fast. His right hand, pinned Sam with his face on the wall, while his left hand maneuvered Sam's hand placing it behind the younger hunter's back. “Do I make myself clear?” He repeated. 

 

“Yes... sir. Crystal.” Sam said gasping for breath. John freed him of his hold and took a few steps backwards. The younger man looked at his hand. An angry red mark, which would soon be purple, was on his wrist. “Great, now explain that to Dean...” Sam wanted to say, but he didn't have the chance. “Hey, Sammy, come in the kitchen, to take a bite of that chicken.” Dean said as he stepped in the room, voice relaxed. The younger man said nothing, he hid his wrist behind his back, and just moved passed Dean, making his way towards the kitchen.  
“Dad?” Dean asked. “Go on and eat Dean, I will do some digging here.” John answered and sat on a chair, baring his nose in one of the old books Bobby had on the desk.

 

Once in the kitchen, Sam threw himself on a chair and sighed in exhaustion. “Eat, you idjits. The serif, Jody Mills is her name, cooked some for her family and brought me the rest of it.” Bobby commented. The boys didn't waste any time and happily obeyed. “So, Bobby...” Sam said after he had eaten at least half of the food placed on his plate. “What's with the couch?” “Couhhh? W'at chouh?” Dean tried to ask while chewing. Sam's epic bitch face, which was shot at him in less than a millisecond, made him start laughing, which ended up, in him almost chocking on his food. It took several sips of beer, a lot of cursing from Bobby, and Sam's hand on Dean's back, rocking comforting circles, for Dean to finally come back to himself. 

 

“Dude, what the hell? What are you, five? Are you trying to kill yourself or something?” Sam asked, voice tired, too tired to actually be considered angry. The older man gazed at Sam for a long moment and his eyes soften as they took in the shape his brother was in. “Sorry, I am sorry, Sammy.” He said quietly, as his hands embraced his brother's shoulders and helped him get up from the floor on which he had been kneeling in order to be at the same level as Dean. “Yeah, right...” the younger man said and moved closer to Dean, his lips only an inch away from his brother's.

 

“The couch, Roufus brought it here, he didn't want it anymore.” Bobby said and at the sound of his voice both boys jumped in surprise. Sam took several steps backwards, moving away from Dean and checked the other room with his gaze. He located his father, the man had his back at them. “Sorry, I, ...I am sorry sir.” Sam said, the word 'sir' leaving his lips before his mind could check on the words he had use. Bobby's eyes narrowed but he chose not to comment anything. Sam sat back on his chair and they resumed their previous task of eating, while Bobby started to explain them what would happen tomorrow with the witch. And so almost an hour went by.

 

“I will clean up the dishes.” Said the younger man after they had both finished their food and Bobby had left the kitchen to join John in the leaving room and give the boys some privacy. “Hey, hey, no, Sam come on, you are way too drained, go upstairs and get some sleep.” The middle Winchester said, and grabbed Sam's wrist to stop him, receiving a groan of discomfort in the process. “Sam, what the hell, I barely took a hold of your...” but Dean stopped in mid sentence as his green eyes took in the red- to- purple color of Sam's wrist. 

 

His fingers withdrew in a blink of an eye, as though they had touched fire, while Sam let his hand fall and turned his face away. The older man lifted his gaze and looked at Sam, his green eyes meeting downcast hazel ones. And it was this splinted second, until the realization of what had taken place reached Dean's brain, in which the older man stayed completely still. “Its my fault, a pissed a guy off on Friday and...” But Sam trailed off, too tired and too lost in Dean's eyes to continue. “When?” Dean said, voice cold. “I told you on Friday-” But before Sam could utter another word Dean took his other hand by the wrist and drew him towards the frond door.

 

“We are going to take our daffles and the book Sam was translating, from the car, we will be back in a minute.” Dean informed the two men, who were now talking about tomorrow's mission to slay the witch which was kidnapping and killing young children. They received a nod from Bobby, but John was too focused on the map he had in frond of him, and apparently too drunk, to give them a nod, let alone, answer them. 

 

The bottle of Johnny, which Bobby had on the desk was now almost empty, which meant John had managed to drink almost three quarters of it, in more or less an hour, a fact Dean's keen eyes didn't miss. But at the moment,he knew he couldn't do something about it. Because all he cared about was Sam. And God help him, he would get some answers. And with this thought in hiss head, he drew Sam out of the house, shutting the door dehind him.


	3. Pleadings, moans, sweat and tears...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean talk and the younger Winchester pleads his brother to not further push things with their dad. When words prove to be less then enough to convince the green eyed hunter, Sam has to try something else...  
> RATING: E (Explicit) for graphic blow job!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so here is the third chapter. Once again, i repeat: RATING: EXPLICIT (E)  
> You have been warned!!!  
> Hope you enjoy!

As soon as the middle Winchester had shut the door of the house he turned around and pinned the younger man on the wall next to the door. “What the hell Dean I told you-” “Today its freaking Sunday Sam. You went to school on Friday-” “Exactly Dean, I went to school and-” “...And...” The older man said moving closer to Sam and lowering his voice “...we made love that night as well as earlier today and none of those times did I see a mark like that on your wrist. And, I am as sure as hell, I didn't do it, because that's not a mark I would leave on you Sam. This is a mark from someone who was standing in front of you and then grabbed your wrist and turned you around, putting your hand behind your back.” Dean said anger in his voice.

 

“Are you done playing Sherlock Holmes? Because if you are, I would like to get back inside now. Its freaking cold out here.” Sam stated, his voice tired but steady. “Did he do it back at Omaha?” Dean said voice rising. “Sam, did dad put his hands on you? Did he hit you?” Sam's breath was caught up in his throat, his eyes were unclear and blurred. He did, didn't he?” Dean asked voice breaking. “When Sam?” But Sam couldn't find his voice. All he could do was turn his face away from those piercing eyes. 

 

“Sam, I swear, if you don't spill it out...” Dean warned shaking his brother's shoulders in an attempt to get an answer. “What difference does it make Dean? In Omaha, or here its no big deal he just grabbed my hand, its not a big deal.” The younger man repeated, mostly to convince himself, rather than Dean, as he freed himself from his brother's hold and headed towards the back of the house. 

 

“Here? What do you mean-” but then it hit him, he and Bobby had been in the kitchen for quite some time. Dean followed his brother and they both entered the small shelter the old man had built himself, a shelter Dean had used as a garage to fix the Impala, many times in the past. The lights were on and Bobby's, now crippled car, was in the middle of the room, occupying almost all of it. 

 

“Sam, why did he-” “Dean... Just let it drop, I... It was my fault, alright?” “No, no its not alright, its way too far from it. Has this ever happened before Sam?” Asked the green eyed man and feared the answer. But he was wrong to fear the words which could come out of Sam's mouth. What he should be afraid of, were the words which never did came out. 

 

And then, when all Dean got from his brother was deafening silence he was sure he would throw up. His stomach flipped and he felt the muscles of his right hand twitching uncontrollably. “Dean... It was just one time a few weeks ago, he was drunk and he just shove me on the wall and said stuff, nothing more, I swear.” said the younger man and tried to get a hold of Dean's hand only to be pushed away in the process. 

 

“'Just?' Sam? 'Just one time?' 'Just shove you on the wall?'” Said the older man, his voice filled with irony, anger and anguish. His jaw was clinched and his green eyes wide open.“Dean its not your fault, it was mine, both times-” “No, no, no, that's it, I will-” “What Dean? I told you, he was drunk back then and-” Sam answered back, but all the older man could see was red. “And what? This is not an excuse, and even if it is, he wasn't drunk today!” “And what are you going to do Dean? He is our dad, he is our family-” Sam tried to say, only to be interrupted.

 

“He hit you! And I was in the next room! So, this is what I am going to do, I am going to get in there and fulfill the promise I made him earlier on that road.” Said Dean and turned around to leave the room, only to be stopped by the sound of Sam's hand punching the wall.

 

“Sam, what the hell, you wanna break your hand or something?” Dean asked annoyed. “You... you pleaded me... to stay, to not leave you out of fear for your life, out of fear that you might die, while protecting me.” Sam said his voice trembling. He turned around and faced his brother. “Now, I am the one asking, pleading you, begging you to stay, Dean... let it go please.” Sam pleaded the older man. 

 

“No, Sam, just no, its not the same.” “No, you are right Dean, its not, but if you go in there, you will end up spilling up what's really going on between us. And that means, dad will shove me in a car and he will make damn sure we don't ever get to see each other again.” “Oh really? Well then, I'll just have to make sure he can't do that.” Dean shot back.

 

“Dean, stop, stop it!” Sam yelled and lanced himself on Dean, pushing them both backwards until the older man hit the front part of Bobby's car. His long hand took a hold of Dean's face and held it tight, only an inch away from his own.“He is our dad Dean, you love the guy. Hell, I do too, so please... please... don't do this to yourself. Don't even think of it. Because you can't, hurt him and that's more than normal. You wouldn't hurt him Dean, just like you wouldn't hurt me.” “No Sam,you I wouldn't hurt, I would rather die. But him... Him I will-” But before the older man could say one more word Sam's hot mouth was over his.

 

Sweet, cinnamon tasting lips, brushed over his own as a wet tongue licked his teeth clean, asking for entrance. And Dean obeyed, like he always had. He let Sam claim his mouth, putting up no fight at first. But as soon as Sam's tongue had licked every corner, Dean returned the kiss, attacking Sam's mouth, biting his bottom lip and almost chewing it with his teeth, while moisturizing it with his tongue. 

 

The kiss grew hotter every second and Dean could feel his anger transforming into pure, boundless, almost, no, certainly, sinful lust. Sam's hands traveled fast beneath Dean's shirt, tracing 'S' after 'S' on Dean's muscular chest and belly, while Dean's gun callused ones messed with Sam's hair. “Sam this is not a good way to destruct me from...” 

 

But Dean lost his ability to form a sentence as soon as he was pushed further back and he was lied down- well, as much as possible- on the front part of Bobby's car. Hot lips kissed his, now exposed neck, tenderly and licked and nipped Dean's pulse point. At the same time, long hands moved further down, undoing the baton and zipper of his jeans, and sliding in his boxes. “Sam, stop-” “I know you would... rather die than hurt me Dean. But you have to understand, what happened today was… something dad did while he was angry, that's all. Sam said, voice getting thicker by the second. Dean's green eyes were wide and their hue was much darker than before. 

 

Sam lowered Dean's boxes as far as they could go, given the fact that the older man still wore his jeans in order to not touch the hood of the car naked. He then, knelled on the floor to be able to do what he was about to do, better. But before going further, he cast a glance at his brother. “You told me to stop Dean, so, if you want me to stop...Say it, and I will.” Dean knew why Sam was saying that. His younger sibling would never do something Dean didn't want him to do. Plus, most of the times, it was Dean who was on the top, so this was somewhat unusual.

 

“Just answer me this, Sammy.” The older man said, cupping Sam's jaw with his palm, coaxing him into getting back on his feet. As soon as the younger man did, Dean drew him close to him, ignoring the way his hardening cock was touching the younger man's jeans. “Are you doing this only to distract me from going in there and kicking dad's ass all over?” he said, voice tight. 

 

“No... I would never do this for the sake of 'just' distracting you, I want this.” “But... your main goal remains to distract me right?” Dean asked, keeping Sam's face still, despite the younger man's attempts on lowering it again. “Dean... The way I see it, I am the reason you will get in there and have a fight with dad.. And I know how you feel about him, how much you admire him... So, i could never, I would never, ask you to choose between dad and me.”

 

“Sam, this has nothing to do with making me choose... After all, I am just doing what he taught me to. I am taking care of you Sammy. I am just... adding a few more sections to my task.” Said Dean, all while his gun callused hands cupped Sam's face, bringing it even closer. His lips turned into a smirk, as he watched the younger man's face flashing red.

 

The older man moved forwards covering the distance, reconnecting their lips in a slower, calmer, yet full of love, kiss. “Will you let me take care of you, for now?” whispered Sam. “Gladly, Sammy, if that's what you want to do...But know that I will have dad explaining this...” added Dean, slowly caressing Sam's wrist, while the younger man knelled on the floor between Dean's legs yet again.

 

“Oh fuck...” Said the older man as Sam's hand resumed the task of making Dean hard. “I just... need you here man, that's … that's all.” Sam managed to say. “Oh, God Dean, I love the way I can make you hard in less than two minutes... The way your cock hardens in my grasp, the way it pumps at the same time as your heart beat...” Sam's lips kissed Dean's navel and licked the area around it, making Dean shiver violently. Sam could now feel pre come oozing from Dean's cock and so he moved his fingers from tip to base, technically spreading the hot white liquid all over Dean's cock as well as his own fingers.

 

Dean's breath was now shallow and quick, his hands stained with sweat ,found Sam's brown locks and grabbed them for dear life, without pushing him into taking his, now red cock, in his mouth though. “You, oh God... Sam its my job to keep you safe from everything and if that means-” “If you are able to talk, then I am doing a poor job.” Sam said and used his wet with pre come fingers, to write 'YOURS' on Dean's belly. “Oh sonofabitch... Sam...” “Just... sit back and enjoy the show Dean.” Sam whispered as his tongue started licking letter after letter made with white, fiery, 'ink' while his hand kept stroking Dean's hard cock. 

 

“Sammy, I am-” “I know Dean... I am going to suck you off and you will come in my mouth, you will make a mess of me... of all of me Dean.” Sam whispered as his lips kissed the tip of Dean's cock, sending shivers of pure pleasure to the older man. “Because I am yours.” Not a moment later, Sam's mouth was concealing Dean's pumping member and he started moving his head back and forth, finding his own pace and mixing saliva with lots of pre come, but not going in too deep. 

 

Dean could only stare back at him and fight the almost overwhelming urge to push forward and fuck Sam's mouth. No, that, he wouldn't do. It had only being a couple of months since Sam had somehow learn to swallow Dean's come, and the older man knew that he still wasn't comfortable with doing it. So, he grabbed Sam's hair tighter and used them as an anchor to hold himself still. 

 

Sam's tongue ran over the tip, while his long fingers played with heavy balls and the pumping vein on the back of his brother's cock. Dean's low moan's were like the anthem of Life for Sam, and so, he widened his cheeks and took in more of Dean's length, feeling the tip touching the base of his throat. “Oh Sammy, fuck, baby boy you are awes-” But the older man found himself unable to utter another word, because Sam did something he had never done before. He used his free hand to spread Dean's legs as much as possible and then he pushed them forwards in order to get all of Dean's length in his mouth, to the point where heavy balls met his chin.

 

“Sammy, you... be careful baby boy... easy Sammy... oh...that's it Sammy...”Dean moaned. Sam gave Dean's balls a strong pull, while tracing lines down Dean's member with his teeth and tongue. He then flicked his tongue around the tip, gathering the slowly licking come and then he moved upwards, spreading it all over Dean's length.

 

“Fuck, fuck Sammy, baby boy I am going to...” Dean managed to warn, somewhere in between his moans and groans of pleasure. He felt his knees tremble and knowing that his brother couldn't support him with just one hand, he moved his body a few inches higher, in order to lie better on the hood of the car. As a result, Sam moved too, and for a splinted second Dean caught a glimpse of his brother's eyes. “Cristo...” he whispered because they were almost black. Sam lifted his eyes again and now Dean could see the tremendous amount of lust in them.

 

Sam pushed again, and Dean felt his stomach becoming a tight knot. “Sammy... I...” The younger man tagged Dean's heavy balls once again all while he took in Dean deep in his throat. He ever so slightly bit the sensitive flesh of Dean's cock and that was it. 

 

That was enough to push Dean over the edge, as he came hard, real hard, shooting hot come down Sam's throat, making a mess of him, all while yelling his name. “Sammy!!!” Sam did indeed swallow as much as possible, but he then withdrew his mouth from Dean's cock and used his hands to help the older man get as much pleasure from his climax as possible. 

He still gave a few slow strokes and he then lowered his head in an attempt to control his breathing. Dean on the other hand, remained where he was, body shuttering to pieces by the force of the climax and breath coming out in uneven, short gasps. “Oh fuck Sammy...” was all he could say as his vision was blurred by white spots...

 

When Dean came down from his high, at least, down to a certain point where he didn't see white spots anymore, he quickly put his boxes and jeans back on and knelled next to Sam who was trying to catch his breath. “Hey, hey, Sammy, you alright?” Dean asked after hearing the younger man coughing. He took his face in his hands and just stared at him for a second. He then, kissed him, slowly and carefully, tasting his own come, a taste bitter yet sweet, on Sam's lips. 

 

“Well now I have to return the favor to my pain in the ass little brother right?” Dean said his lips turning into a smirk. “Dean, not here, not now, you can return the favor once we get upstairs.” Sam said and then looked Dean straight in the eyes. 

 

“I am tired, Dean. Of all this. Of the fighting, the training, the endless hunting... So I just... want you to... be here, and yes this is so chick flick, but I... I am too tired to care Dean. So, please, let what happened with dad go, act like it never did.” Sam pleaded as Dean helped him to get back on his feet.

 

“Sammy...you know I can't and even if I could I don't want to-” “Say it again.” the younger man whispered and his cheeks flashed red.“What? ” Dean asked surprised, but then his eyes widened. “I said it countless times when you were sucking me off. Is that why he did... this?” Dean asked as his hands brought Sam's bruised wrist to the level of his chest and placed it on his left palm, while his gun callused fingers ghosted over it. 

 

“Answer me Sammy.” “He... he asked me if I would let mom call me that. And I said ... that she wouldn't want this life for us and that it wasn't my fault what happened to her. But then he just shoved me on the wall and...” But Sam's words died in his throat as a sob emerged from deep inside.

 

Dean didn't say a word he just tagged Sam close to him and put his hands around his broad shoulders. “Shh... Sam, Sammy, come on now, baby boy, easy, take it easy.” Dean said, coaxing his brother into calming down. He knew that Sam didn't usually cry, but after all that had taken place today, Dean could give him a free pass. 

 

And so, they just stood there, for what could have been seconds, minutes, hours even, with Dean running his fingers through Sam's hair, while Sam's body was jolting from the sobs. “I am sorry... Dean,I am sorry...” Sam said, voice broken. 

 

“Shh, Sammy, no, don't, just... just breathe alright? Listen to my voice and breathe.” Dean whispered and vowed that he would make someone pay for all this, because this was the second fucking time, in a day, that Sam was begging for forgiveness because of their dad's cruelty. And that was something Dean wouldn't let go off. 

 

As soon as Sam's breathing was back to normal, the two boys braced themselves, washed their hands in the small sink Bobby had in the room and got out of the small cabin, heading towards the Impala. “You take your book and your notes, leave the duffles to me little brother.” Dean said and Sam obeyed. Once they were outside the door Dean spoke, voice low, sure. 

 

“The only reason I am not making a mess right now Sam, is because you are tired and because I don't ever want...” At this point the older man cleared his throat in order to maintain his voice steady. “I don't ever want to see you that messed up again. When I saw you on that road...Well, lets just say that if I ever learn anything like what took place today happened again... I won't mind who will be standing in front of me Sammy.” Dean said. 

 

“Whether it is some random guy from school, who called you a freak, or Dad, or God himself, I will end him, if he ever hurts you again.” Sam could only nod his head, he couldn't trust his voice to answer. “Well, lets get inside bitch.” Dean said. “Jerk...” Sam whispered in return, but his words were swallowed by the cracking sound of the old door opening.

“Well, sure it took you long enough.” John who was standing on the doorstep said, voice rather cold. Sam and Dean both froze. This could turn out really bad, for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Please live a comment if you want! Due to my studies next chapter will be posted on Sunday. And one more thing! Should you spot any major, or minor spelling mistakes do not hesitate on mentioning them to me if you are in the mood for it. I am trying my best to check out everything, but sometimes i miss some spelling mistakes. 
> 
> Thank you all!!!


	4. Back inside the House :Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean return back and have to decide who will go hunting tomorrow... It turns out, its not so easy, not with John trying to keep them apart...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is chapter 4 which was too long, so i posted it in two parts! Hope you enjoy it and THANK YOU, THANK YOU ALL, for your comments and kudos, or for just reading my story!  
> Oh, here is the link for King Artur's vow...
> 
> http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/530194-this-is-the-oath-of-a-knight-of-king-arther-s
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

Both boys stood frozen at the doorstep, as John's keen eyes scanned them. Dean was now shivering, the heat of his orgasm slowly but surely wearing off. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing quick. “Will you come in, or what?” John said after a few seconds. Sam was the first one to snap out of his initial shock and stepped inside the house, while Dean stared at his father for a few more seconds. “Dean?” Sam asked and the older man took his eyes from his father and followed his brother inside.

 

The green eyed man placed their duffles in the corner and Sam let the book fall on Bobby's desk. “Finish translating it Sam.” John ordered and the younger man could not stop himself from groaning. “Chill out now, Sammy, you can sleep until late in the morning tomorrow.” he continued. “It's 'Sam.' the younger man shot back instantly, his jaw twitching. "And no, I won't be able to sleep, because in case you forgot, we will go hunting tomorrow.” Sam continued. 

 

“No, you are not coming.” John said, voice tight. “The witch we hunt is proving to be quite dangerous, so I don't want you getting in the way. Right Dean?” the older hunter asked his son. The middle Winchester swallowed the lump in his throat and waved his hand in approval, remaining still, in the dark corner of the room. 

 

Sam's breath was caught in his throat and he opened his mouth to protest only to close it again, finding himself in a lose of words. He was feeling as though fire and ice were touching him simultaneously. On the one hand, he knew it was safer for all of them if he stayed back, like he had, multiple times in the past. It was better because Dean wouldn't have to worry about him, or endanger his own safety to protect him. But on the other hand Sam felt useless and he wanted, no, needed to go with the others, to watch Dean's back, because that was his job, that was what he did... He stood beside Dean... He watched his back.

 

“I hate to break this to you John, but Dean won't come along either.” Bobby said as he entered the living room. The older man put his hand on Sam's slightly trembling shoulder and held him still, preventing him from leaving the room. “What do you mean, i won't come along either?” Dean asked as his green eyes lighted up with joy. “It means what it sounds like you idjit, you get to stay here and fix my car, or, well, whatever is left of it, I can't afford a proper mechanic. Besides, you will do a better job with it.” “Bobby we need help with this, we will stay here for a few days, so Dean can fix the car when we get back.” John shot back and Sam felt his heart sinking.

 

“Come on now John, we can get somebody else. “Fine, then Sam gets to come. Besides, it's time he sees what's really out there.” John said, eyes flicking between his sons. You getting too old or something?” Bobby asked. “Not a minute ago you said-” “I know what I said. Well, now, I have changed my mind.” came the answer from the elder Winchester.

 

John wasn't a fool. He knew that the witch was dangerous and he wasn't planning on leaving his youngest son anywhere near her. Should Sam come along, John would make sure he stayed at the motel. But he felt the need to put some distance between his sons, thus, he had come up with this solution. One of them would join the two men on their hunting trip, while the other one stayed behind. And now, thanks to Bobby, the one joining them had to be Sam.

 

“No.” Three pairs of eyes were lifted at once, gazing at the dark corner in which the man stood. “No. Fucking. Way.” said the voice, which was low and gravelly. A voice both John and Bobby would have to analyze, in order to understand its origin, had they not witnessed Dean's lips moving a second earlier. 

 

At first, one would assume it belonged to a human-like animal, which was ready to devour the enemy who was trying to steal its food, or harm its pack. Devour them, or die trying. Only Sam had heard this voice before, about two months ago, when its bearer had taken on a tall guy who had tried to kiss him against his will. 

 

Little did the knowledge of that happening helped though, because the younger man shivered hard and had to bite his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood in order to stop himself from covering the distance between him and Dean and stopping the older man from doing, or saying, anything stupid. “This wasn't a suggestion son, it was a-” John began to say, eyes fixed on Dean, but before he could utter one more word the green eyed man interjected. “What I said wasn't a suggestion either... Sir.” Dean said, slowly stepping out of the shadows.

 

“I am the one who gets to come with you. It's either me, or go get somebody else to put his life on the line.” Dean continued, shooting a warning glance at Sam, who was ready to speak, but the middle Winchester wouldn't have that. “Dean-” “Try to get my brother out of that door and I will make the promise I gave you earlier today on the road come true. Now, do you want me to play along? Fine, but Sam stays here.” 

 

The older Winchester looked at his son. Dean's face was hard and it seemed to John as though his son had aged a year in what would have been a minute, in which they talked about Sam joining them. But then again, he could be wrong. It wasn't that one minute, which had added a year to his son's face. It was all those years of training and hunting, the hardships he had gone through. And above all else, it was the never ending effort he was putting into being both, a good soldier, and a good brother. Into holding whatever was left of his family, together.

 

His green eyes looked almost haunted, an invisible layer hidding their brightness. Whether it was worry for Sam's well being, or the responsibility to protect him against all threats, or the unconditional love he was feeling for him, John didn't know.

 

Once again the thought “wrong” took over his head. And damn, many things were wrong at that moment. But one hit him the hardest. Dean's change of attitude. “You don't get to talk to me like that Dean. I gave you and your brother an order and you will follow it, like it, or not. Now, stop acting like a teenager, I already have my fair share of it, thanks to Sam.” Said the older Winchester sighing. “I thought you would be able to live up to my expectations, but as it seems I was wrong.” 

 

Deafening silence followed that last sentence. To Sam it seemed as though time had stopped. Even with the dim illumination Bobby's old lamps provided, the younger man could see Dean's face darkening, could see the new line of guilt and self loathing 'scaring', not only the skin of his forehead as he frowned, but his heart and soul as well. He could see the change in his breathing, the way it quickened and became shallow. “You are not good enough” was what his father had just told him. 

 

Sam's heart broke in a million pieces, and the younger man could swear they were pieces of diamond, because they were hurting him beyond measure, pushing, poking, tearing his skin, as though they needed to get out of his chest, to either engulf John, or conceal Dean from the pain he was feeling. 

 

For the former he was reluctant, but for the latter...There was nothing the young man wouldn't give to be able to take his brother out of there and tell him how wrong their father was. Tell him how much he loved him... But no matter how hard Sam was praying right then, praying for an angel to appear and get them out of there, nobody came to his aid... 

 

But Sam knew Dean well. He knew, he could see him, burring the pain and the hurt deep inside him and hated himself at that moment, because Dean was hurt while trying to defend him, to protect him. He had made him pick a side...

 

“Sam, go gather your stuff.” John ordered. “Yes, sir.” answered the younger man and freed himself of Bobby's weak hold, turned around and headed towards the corner Dean was standing, to get his duffle.  
“John, come on, let the kids be, let them get some rest-” “Back off Bobby, you made your point quite clear. They are my sons, and if I tell them to do something they do it.” “Not under my roof John.” The man answered and moved passed Sam. “You brought them here, so let them stay here.” he continued, his voice steady.

 

“It wasn't me who brought them here. Dean stormed out and decided to come.” “Yeah, because your friend told us Bobby could help with the fucking witch!” Sam yelled, waving his hands in anguish. “Mind your tongue!” John shot back, voice hard, and moved towards Sam, who had instinctively taken a few steps backwards, hitting the wall.“Or what dad? You will break his wrist for good this time?” Dean said, speaking for the first time after a while, his voice low, hurt. 

 

“What? Both John and Bobby said at the same time. Bobby's mouth literally fell open and he glanced over at John with anger. “Oh please, don't play dumb. You think I didn't notice his wrist?” Dean said, voice cracking slightly. Sam took a step to the side, distinctively placing his body next to Dean's shivering one. “So, since I don't go back on my promises, how about we get outside and have a little chat?” John didn't say a word and Dean waved his head. 

 

“Well, now you don't speak.” he said. “I didn't raise you like that Dean.” John answered, his voice filled with bitterness. “No, dad... This is exactly how you raised me.” the middle Winchester said, voice equally bitter. “You raised me to be a hunter, to never go back on a promise, to shoot first and ask questions later. And above all else, you taught me to 'watch out for Sam.'” Dean said raising his hands in the last part. “Something you never did, something that I have always done and that I will always do. So, don't be so surprised... sir. I am just... following orders.” Dean said, lowering his gaze and taking a breath. “Yeah...That's exactly what I am doing.” 

 

“Alright, fine, chill out Dean, you both get to stay here for a couple of days, maybe three.” Bobby stepped in, knowing that if he didn't, this wouldn't end up well. “But, you, will fix my car.” Bobby said gazing at Dean. “And you, will clean up this place a little bit.” he continued, moving his gaze to the young Winchester, who nodded his head in approval and moved towards the table, grabbing his book and a pencil to resume his task of translating the text. 

 

“I am going out for a while.” Said John and took his keys and jacket in a blink of an eye. “But, this isn't over Dean... No, that goes for you both. Once we are done with this hunt we will make some things clear.” He declared before shutting the door behind him. Meanwhile, Dean brought a few bottles of beer from the fridge and joined the two men on their research for the Witch. 

 

“You want one?” asked the green eyed man, waving the bottle of beer he held in his hand. “No thanks.” said Sam, whose eyes momentarily flicked from the book to his brother's direction. He wanted to talk to him, but knew now wasn't the time. Thus, the younger man got comfortable on the small couch and kept on translating the book, to the sounds of soft voices talking, pages of old books turning, and of liquor being poured into glasses. His lashes were heavy, but he somehow managed to finish the task, despite the fact that the letters had, at some point, started to hop on the pages and form only one word. Dean.

 

And this was normal, because only a few feet away sat Dean, whose voice was echoing in the room, low, and calm, soften by the hot whiskey. The middle Winchester had taken on the task of explaining the route which served best for the two older men to follow tomorrow. Thus, he was talking for quite some time. He was speaking of turns and sideways, of dangerous hiding places near the road, of confusing crossroads, which leaded to numerous dead ends and of secret paths, hidden from the main road which, eventually would lead the two men to the abandoned cabin the witch used as a hideout. 

 

But all Sam could hear, was the all too familiar voice of his brother, of the person who was always there, echoing in the room, surrounding his entire body like a blanket. And by that point, the young man couldn't make out what his brother was saying, because it sounded like something totally different in his ears. It sounded like Dean was reading him“The Knights of the round table.” 

 

Because this was one of the few happy childhood memories Sam had. Thus, whenever they were at Bobby's, or even in a crappy motel room, and he had lied down while Dean was talking, for some inexplicable reason, it always ended up sounding like this, like Dean was vowing to King Arthur.

 

“I will develop my life for the greater good. I will speak the truth at all times, and forever keep my word, I will defend those who cannot defend themselves, I will be faithful in love and loyal in friendship, I will be generous to the poor and to those who need help, I will forgive when asked, that my own mistakes will be forgiven, I will live my life with courtesy and honor from this day forward...”

 

The younger man knew there was more to this vow, but he was loosing the battle of staying awake. And why not surrender? He felt safe and warm, and Dean was there, next to him. With this thought in his head, Sam drifted off, to a long disired sleep...


	5. Back inside the House: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John begins to understand something is not right...While Dean falls asleap dreaming of Sam moaning his name...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part2 of chapter 4. Sorry i know its sort, but... I hope you enjoy it! Further editting will be done tomorrow! Next chapter (if anyone is interested) will be posted late at night next Monday.  
> For, Issraa, whom i thank so much for her/his sweet comments!  
> I hope you all enjoy!

“Alright, that's it for tonight boy, go get some sleep.” Bobby said,about forty minutes later. “You sure Bobby?” asked the middle Winchester. “Yes Dean, I am sure, now, go.” Dean got up from his chair, past his hand over his face and blinked several times to be able to clear his vision. “Oh, Dean, about my car I need to tell you what-” “I saw your car earlier Bobby, and I must admit, well... its pretty bad... Were you drunk?” Dean asked, his lips turning into a smile. 

 

“I wasn't driving, Rufous was, and he was kind of... possessed at the moment... Wait, when did you see my car?” “We went to your 'garage' earlier, to... talk.” Answered Dean, swallowing the lump in his throat. “'Talk', huh?” Bobby said, raising an eyebrow. “Oh come on now Bobby, we did talk-” “Alright, alright, you idjit. I am going to get some stuff out of my car and I don't want to see you here when I get back.” “Hey, um, about what you said to dad earlier...” “I am glad I played doctor Phil that good.” came the answer as the older man walked out the door. 

 

“Oh, look who is back... and drunk. You know, I'm not planing on dying tomorrow, John so... if you can't come-” “I am fine, stop nagging.” Said John, who had just pulled the car out of the road, next to Bobby's house.“Bobby... If you ever get involved that much in a discussion between me and my sons-” “No John... I wasn't stepping in in a discussion between you and your sons.” Bobby said, sucking in, a deep breath.

 

“Try the term 'soldiers' Yeah, I stepped in, in a discussion between you and...Two soldiers. That's what you treat them like. And they don't deserve it John. And neither do you. You can't order them to respect you, or love you, you have to earn it.” “You have no idea what you are talking about, you never had kids of your own.” John shot back, glaring at Bobby. “I am not so sure about that...” whispered the other man and headed to the garage where he had stored the car, while John turned around and headed towards the house. 

 

 

Once inside, John headed to the small living room and got ready to call out for the boys, but what he saw, made him stop dead in his tracks. The room was now dark, save one lamp in the kitchen. And there, in the dark, stood Dean, his back on the door- and therefore John- his green eyes gazing at Sam's sleeping figure. John took the risk of taking one more step, to the side, changing his angle, so that he could better see what was happening. Helped by the pale light of the moon, which was entering through the window, John could now see Dean's green eyes softening and his lips turning into a small smile. 

 

 

The elder Winchester hid himself in the shadows as much as possible, lowered his breathing and waited for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. As soon as they did, John fixed his gaze on Dean once again. He saw Dean's eyes shining, the layer which was earlier hunting them had now been pushed aside. His face, ashen and tired, yet, soft and caring seemed to now be calmer than before. The lines on his forehead were slowly fading, as anguish, anger, rage and duty, were giving their place to love, safety, happiness and tranquility.

 

John sat still for a few minutes, not able to take his eyes away from Dean's figure. His son was standing there, just, standing there, taking in the image of his brother. Letting himself relax as he recognized Sam's breathing pattern, letting this image wash over him, as much as much as possible, wash away the mask he usually wore. Letting this moment extent itself, become the only thing which mattered in this world, become, his entire world. It was as though everything and everyone else had just disappeared, as thought time had stopped.

 

He watched, as Dean, ever so slowly, ever so carefully, as though he was holding porcelain, lifted Sam's sleeping body in his arms. Sam seemed to stir for a second, but Dean was fast on calming him down, whispering words of reassurance to the younger man, words John could not hear. A thought came to him right then. He had never carried Dean in his arms like that, not for a very long time. When the middle Winchester broke his hand, he wasn't there... Sam had driven him to the ER despite being only fourteen years old. 

 

He then watched as Dean inhaled deeply, savoring the smell coming from his younger sibling. Despite Sam's long arms and legs, Dean managed to maneuver him in his embrace, so that his head was in the crook of his own neck. He watched as Dean started walking towards the stairs, taking slow, careful, steps so as not to wake Sam up. Dean was ready to climb them, when he suddenly turned around and fixed his eyes on John. And it was in this moment, when Dean's eyes met his, that John wasn't sure who was staring back at him. 

 

This was Dean, yes, but in his eyes were so many emotions, such deep devotion and love, such care and adoration that the elder Winchester felt he could drown in them. This was Dean's heart, his soul, now complete, without this longing, this, desperate need to be loved, which, John could see every time his son would look at him. Everything he was, everything he could ever be, right there, in those eyes. 

 

Lying there, all those emotions, all those wishes he had, like shells on the sand, waiting, wanting, needing, to be beheld. And it was all meant for one person to behold. And this person was not him. Because, for John it wasn't like that, the shells were hidden in cracks of rocks and he had never bothered to even, try, and find them. He had just decided Dean would become a hunter. Besides, emotions could make you weak...And he wanted both his sons to be strong and not bother with less important matters.

 

Thus, he could now understand, with an aching pain, that he had lost the right to be able to see those deep emotions, in those astonishing eyes. He had it, a long time ago, when those eyes, Mary's eyes, would look at him, like he was a hero, waiting for him to return from a hunt and praise him for 'taking care of Sam'. Waiting for him to say 'that's my boy'. To say 'I am proud of you son.' But, he never did. Didn't Dean know that? 

 

“Love has to be earned...” Bobby had told him. And John knew that his son loved him. He just loved his brother more and probably in more ways than just a brother. And that thought was enough to send chills down his spine...

 

“What are you doing son?” He asked, voice low. “Getting him upstairs to sleep properly.” Answered Dean, voice barely above than a whisper. “Dean you can't climb the stairs holding him like that, wake him up already.” John said, louder this time.

 

Dean's face frowned, as Sam winced in his arms. He held him even closer, not caring of what their father would think of them. “I let the fact that you... put your hands on him pass for now, because he asked me to.” Dean said, voice low, calm, a voice meant to calm Sam down. “I will not do it again dad... So, don't push me.” “Dean enough of this, it was a mistake.” John answered back.

“Goodnight sir. I will see you in the morning, before you take off with Bobby.” said the middle Winchester and started climbing the stairs without a second thought, his eyes fixed on his feet, so as to not step on the cracking pieces of wood. John kept his eyes on his son even after he had disappeared in the room Bobby had given them.

 

Dean entered the room and blew a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. The thought of kissing Sam, back in the living room, had crossed his mind, but for some inexplicable reason he hadn't done it. He didn't pray to anyone, niether God, nor Devil, but now, at that moment, he found himself doing just that. He thanked them, for their help. The older man placed Sam on the bed gently and got him under the covers, after removing his shoes. Unfortunately, he couldn't change his clothes without waking him up, so he didn't take the risk of trying to do it.

 

He moved the brown locks from his forehead with his palm and felt the younger man stirring. “D'n...” “Shh, sleep, Sammy, I am not going anywhere. Sleep...” he whispered, cursing silently for the amount of “chick flick moments,” he had shared with him that day. Surprisingly enough, he didn't mind it all that much. He, too, got off his shoes and got ready to dig through their duffles for a pair of more comfortable night clothes to wear, when a knock on the door made him freeze. 

 

“Yes?” he said and saw Bobby standing at the door, holding both of their duffles. “Oh, thanks Bobby I was ready to come down and get them-” “You... are so... cleaning my garage.” He said and Dean's cheeks flushed red. He swallowed and nodding his head, what else was there to be done? “Night you idjit...” said the old man, leaving something on the nightstand, which was the only thing between the two beds. Dean reached for it. It was a note which read “For fixing my car.” Underneath it, the green eyed man saw some money. It was nothing much, but Dean knew it was more than Bobby could afford..."Thanks Bobby... For everything.” he said to the, now, empty, room. 

 

Dean changed into more comfortable clothes and lied down on the bed. He reached for Sam, who curled on the edge of his own bed, to be as close to Dean as possible. After a few minutes, the green eyed man drifted off to sleep, his hand protectively over Sam's waist. Knowing that in less than five hours the house would finally be empty. And then, he would be able to give Sam his present for his upcoming birthday...

 

And that's what he dreamed about. He dreamed about Sam, tied up to the bed, his puppy dog eyes shinning, filled with lust, his pupils dilated. His sweet moans, to every little touch Dean would give him, his quickening heart beat under his tongue as he would lick every corner of his body... His quivering lips, tasting like cinnamon and Sam... Yes, that was his plan for tomorrow night. And he would make this plan word, even if Hell barred the way...


	6. I am still here...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Bobby leave for the hunt and the boys are now alone. Dean though, is afraid that Sam will forget him as soon as he goes at Stanford and is also pissed at John. Which means that it is up to Sam to calm him down...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the next chapter, which, i wasn't going to write at first, but then i felt that the boys should sholve all their issues before having sex! Once again, i Thank you all, for putting up with this, i hope that you enjoy it! To Issraa, as a huge 'thank you' for all her/his kind commends!  
> I hope you will all enjoy!

Dean's breath was trapped in his throat. His green eyes wide, filled with pain, guilt and fear, stared at John, who was standing in front of him. This wasn't right, the middle Winchester remembered lying on the bed, on Bobby's guest room and falling asleep, dreaming of Sam naked underneath him. So, what the bloody hell was going on? Why was he back in the living room and where was Bobby and Sam? Dean flicked his gaze around the room, finding none of the two men anywhere in it. Thus, he turned his gaze on his father.

 

The older man seemed on edge, lips pressed in a thin line, eyes narrowed, filled with disappointment and anger, fingers clenching in a fist. “You don't get to talk to me like that Dean...” He said, voice tight. Dean knew he had heard those words before, but he felt the need to apologize for what had happened last night. And that's exactly what he did.“Sir, I am sorry, but you want to get Sam out there and I can't let you-” “You cannot babysit him forever, Dean. You can't hang from every move he makes, or every word he says, either.” Answered John.

 

“No, you don't understand, Sam is-” “Sam, is going to leave you! He is going to dump you, right where you stand! Because he wants a different life, a life as far away as possible, away from this job, away from this state,or, even this country, away from this family.” “It's you, who never heard him out, dad, it's your fault he feels trapped here, your fault, not mine!” Dean yelled back, waving his hands in anger, as his green eyes narrowed. 

 

“No Dean, its not my fault, it's yours.” John whispered, eyes fixed on him. “What? What are you-” “You are not good enough...I thought you would be able to live up to my expectations, but, as it seems, I was wrong.” Dean took several steps backwards, and felt his chest tightening, with every passing second. As the middle Winchester hit the wall behind him, fear overtook him. Because, with every step he took backwards, John took one forwards, until the older man found himself, only a few inches away from Dean. “You are not good enough. Not even for following orders.” The man continued, grabbing Dean's shirt by the collar.

 

“I have always done what you asked! I have given everything I've ever had, to help you, with this never ending battle, and all I ask in return is-” “What? A hug? You expect me to return home and let you cuddle in my arms or something? You are my son, not some random chick, or spoiled brat, who runs to daddy all the time! These are chick flick moments.” John shouted as he pushed Dean back, hitting his back on the wall. The middle Winchester could feel his blood starting to boil in his veins.

 

“I don't know dad, I expected something! A praise, a 'thank you', anything! But, no, I am not good enough, because I won't let you drag my brother out there, to get him killed. Because I didn't obey your orders.” Dean shot back, pushing John's hands aside, freeing himself from his vicious hold. 

 

“Obeying my orders is what you do, a hunter is what you are, what you will always be. Because, there is nothing else for you to do. So, obeying my orders should be an honor.” “Don't say that to me you son of a-” “Why not? It's the truth, you have nothing outside of me and Sam. Everything you have, I owned first. Every friend you ever had, Sam had introduced them to you.” “That's your fault too!” Dean cried out, lips quivering. 

 

“Is it? Then, why does Sam have friends? Wherever we go, he makes friends.” “Yeah, only to loose them a couple weeks later, and, eventually, forget them.” answered the middle Winchester, voice venomous. “Just like he will forget you. Come on now, Dean, you know he will, you are scared to the bone, that as soon as he walks out of here-” “No, no, this will never happen, Sam-” “Sam will move on, will push you aside, will get you out of his life, because you are nothing more than an insignificant, unimportant weakling...” John said, voice low. 

 

“Shut up! Shut the hell up! You took everything away from me, everything! Sam is the only one left, and, I will be damned, if I let you take him away, or drive him away, with your attitude, you pathetic son of a bitch!” The middle Winchester screamed, lancing himself on John, while clinching his fingers to a fist. “Do it!” the older man yelled at Dean who was ready to punch him.

 

“Do it, what are you waiting for?” But, despite the fire burning in Dean's green eyes, his hand would not move. “You can't do it. No matter how many times you declare you will make me pay, for what I have put you through, for my numerous mistakes, for putting my hands on Sam, everything you say, all those momentous words, they are just empty threats.” John said, smirking wickedly. “Don't tempt me dad!” snapped the other man. “You can't do it.” John repeated. “Not even... not even in your dreams!” Said the older hunter, with an expression of utter satisfaction painted all over his face. This expression, was the last thing Dean saw, before the living room and everything else around him started to disappear in a burning white light.

 

Green eyes snapped open as the middle Winchester bolted upright on his bed, shirt soaked with sweat, hands shaking. His breathing, ragged and uneven, made things even more difficult, giving Dean no room to calm himself down. “Dean?” The green eyed man lifted his gaze towards the direction of the voice which was calling his name and saw Bobby standing at the door. 

 

 

“You alright?” the older man asked, voice weary. Dean managed to lift his right hand to the level of his eyes and wave it, a gesture which meant he needed a moment. “Well, as soon as you are able to take a deep breath come downstairs, me and your dad, we're leaving.” Said the other man, gazing at Sam's still sleeping figure. “I guess we won't be seeing him.” muttered the older hunter, his lips turning into a weak smile.

 

Once Dean gathered his self control, he got up and headed downstairs, not looking behind him. No, he couldn't look at Sam, not yet. “Dean, we are leaving, you can pick up the phone, should it rink, and just tell to whoever it is that I am on a job. Oh, there is food on the fridge and spaghetti in the cupboard.” Bobby said eyes flicking between Dean and John, who was standing at the door. “Well, I'll just... wait in the car.” he continued and turned around and headed towards the Impala, praying that father and son would not end up killing each other. 

 

“Sir, I-” Dean started to say, voice hoarse from sleep, but his father wouldn't let him. “We will be back the fourth day, at dawn. The house is safe, nothing supernatural can pass the front door.” Their eyes met, and John could not stop himself from silently gasping, as he beheld green eyes shining under the light of the rising sun. 

 

The younger man felt his stomach flipping. John's eyes were hard, filled with the exact same emotions as in his dream. “Take care dad...” he managed to say, as John turned around and got ready to follow Bobby. “Dad...” Dean uttered, swallowing hard “I... I am sorry, about yesterday.” The elder Winchester stopped dead in his tracks, fixing his eyes on the ones of his son yet again. There it was again, this longing, this need... But for what? John, could not understand the reason why Dean would look at him like that. Or, to be honest, he couldn't admit the reason why.

 

“The way I spoke to you... It wasn't appropriate, but you wanted to-” “Good, you will therefore, use those two days to rest and when we meet again, you have better to have changed your attitude. When I give you an order, you will obey it. And Dean... Watch out for Sam.” he continued, words escaping his lips uncontrollably. He saw Dean's eyes widen in shock and he was quick to fill in “And for yourself as well. When I get back... We will talk more.” With these words he got out of the door and Dean was left alone, standing by the doorstep.

 

Dean was feeling sick. This wasn't fair, even by their own standards. He felt his blood boil in his veins and knew he had to distract himself from all this mess, from all those feelings which were clinging onto his chest. So, he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote “To the garage, working on Bobby's car.” He placed it on the desk, a place Sam would definitely check out, once he woke up, took his duffle and headed outside, to the small cabin.

 

Three hours later, Sam's hazel eyes cracked open. The sun was now high above ordinary men, looking down at them, like a King sitting on his throne. The sky was bright cloudless, and the air entering from the window was hot and dry. The young man stretched his hand to the other bed, hopping to find Dean there, but the only thing his fingers touched was a blanket. His eyes snapped then, as a feeling of worry kicked in. He rose up from his bed, tossing the covers to the side, and sighed as he looked himself from the neck and down. “Great, Dean left me to sleep with my clothes on...” he whispered to the empty room. “Well, at least he got my shoes off...” he continued, smiling at his bare feet. He quickly put his shoes back on and stormed out of the room. 

 

“Dean!” Sam called aloud, knowing that by now, Bobby and his father would be long gone. “Dean!” he repeated reaching the kitchen, but only the echo of his own words wailed back as his call. His keen eyes scanned the room and spotted the piece of paper lying on the desk. “Thank God.” muttered Sam, feeling his stomach unclench. For a few agonizing seconds he had assumed that Dean had followed the two older hunters on their trip. The younger man, releasing a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, got out of the house and headed towards the small cabin, a smile painted on his face.

 

His smile was short lived however, because as soon as he reached the cabin his brother was in, the young man froze and his breath was caught in his throat. Dean was inside the car, trying to push the upper part of the roof with his feet, but when the metal did not move an inch the older man got out of the car and headed towards the small table where his toolbox was lying. 

 

The young man could understand that his brother had also tried to fix the inner parts of the car, for the hood was open, and all the mechanical and electronic parts were cleaned but not fixed, thus, Sam could only assume that, either they were fine, or, Dean could not find out what was wrong with them. Despite Sam's lack of knowledge when it came to cars, he could tell by the general shape the old vehicle was in, that his former hypothesis was not right. His eyes flicked yet again, from the crippled car to where his brother was standing, clothes dirty, stained with sweat, breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. 

 

Sam saw Dean's long fingers grabbing a key, holding it too tight for a second and then, throwing it to the other corner of the room. His hazel eyes widen, and it took a tremendous amount of will power to control himself and not rush to his side. This had little to do with the car, Sam was sure of it, this had to do with their dad. He watched with an aching pain, as handfuls of tools followed, sharing the same fate as the French key, a cruel fate, of being tossed all around the room. And when the tools had run out, the green eyed man used the back of his hand to vigorously, almost furiously, push everything else aside.

 

Ragged breaths and animal-like noises emerged from Dean's throat, hurt sounds, followed by a half- choked sob, which Sam barely heard, as it was covered by the sound of fists hitting the, now empty surface, of the wooden table. Sam's hazel eyes blurred, but he didn't make a move, he didn't even dare to breathe. He knew his brother better than anyone else, Dean wouldn't want him to see this. See him, like this.

 

Only when Dean's broad shoulders started shaking, not with sobs, but from the lack of air, did the younger Winchester entered the room, taking slow, small steps, towards his brother and placing his palm between his shoulder blades. The older hunter tensed for a second, but he then welcomed the warm hand, which rested on his upper back. Sam inhaled deeply, the tip of his nose buried in Dean's short hair, savoring the smell of sweat, oil, leather and Dean. “I can't find out what the hell is wrong with this thing.” he muttered. This was half the truth, his mind was not focused on the task of fixing the car.

 

“Dean... That's not the reason why you did this.” he whispered glimpsing around the cabin. Dean's body trembled as though electricity had hit it and he, once again, moved towards the car. “Dean, calm down, we need to talk-” “I have been working on it for more than three hours now, ever since dad and Bobby took off, and I can not understand what I am missing.” “Did you speak to dad today? What did he say?” asked the younger man, grabbing Dean's shirt. “What do you mean what did he say? The usual, now, either help me here or, go back inside and... do something.” said Dean, freeing himself from Sam's hold.

 

“Punch me.” Sam demanded, voice strict, in a tone which resembled the one John used. “Excuse me?” asked the green eyed man, as Sam placed himself in front of him once again, blocking his way. “I said, punch me.” he repeated, voice lower. “Why the hell would i-” “Because you need to get this out, Dean, that's why! All this...” and here his voice fainted and his hazel eyes traveled around the room once again. “... This anger, this rage,it's eating you alive.” He continued, placing his hand on Dean's trembling chest. “What dad said yesterday, it hit you hard Dean, I know it, I know how it feels, how bad it hurts.” 

 

“Oh, great, thank you Doctor Phil. So, what exactly am I suppose to do now Sammy? Huh? Start crying like a spoiled brat, or a chick?” Dean shot back, voice filled with irony, quoting John's words from his dream. “For starters, you have to demand an apology from dad.” answered Sam, voice calm, soothing. “Demand? No, no, I am the one who has to apologize... again.” The younger man swallowed hard, to clear his throat. “...Again?” he asked, voice rising.

 

“Yes, Sam, again, as many times-” “Dean, what he said yesterday, it made no sense. On the one hand, you have to watch out for me, that is the primer command. As if I can not watch out for myself! And, on the other hand, you are disobeying orders when you are trying to do just that!” he yelled, desperation in his voice. “Even you, got pissed, because you love him so much and this is his repayment.” “Well, I'll just have to live with it then.” Dean shot back, pure stubbornness holding him together. 

 

“No, you can't. It's not fair, Dean. For me, you were ready to kill the man, I know you would have, and when he does the same to you, you just bow down? No, you can't bury this inside you Dean, I won't let you! You don't want to talk to him, fine, but-” Sam could not continue, though, for Dean's hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt.

 

“You... you won't let me, huh? Oh, how kind of you Sammy. But, tell me, little brother, what happens when you leave to go to that university you crave so much? What happens then, Sam? Who will stay behind with dad? You? No, it's going to be me, and I will have to put up with all his crap. Because you will be gone and I will...” But the older man stopped talking, lowered his gaze and let his hands fall to his sides, all his attitude fading away. “You will be gone Sam...” he repeated, voice cracking. 

 

“No, no Dean, even if I am not here I will always-” “Oh, please, Sam, stop acting like a freaking teenage girl in a soap opera!” Dean said waving his hands. “You will go out there and move on with your life and-” “And what, Dean? What? I won't have a brother anymore? Or, I will just... I don't know, erase what we have?” Sam asked, voice broken. “Yes!” Dean answered back unable to stop himself from doing so. “Just like dad erases every good thing I have ever done for him!” 

 

“No, no, Dean, I won't, and you know why? Because I fucking love you, so much! Because it hurts like hell, to see you like this right now! Because I am willing to let you use me as a punching bag, or shove me in a bed and fuck me raw, anything you want, anything you need, that will make you get this out of your system!” Sam yelled and his hazel eyes shined as the sunlight fell upon them , becoming two gold orbs for a second. 

 

His long hands lashed out, pushing Dean backwards with such force that the older man lost his balance and fell on the cold floor, dragging Sam along with him. Their position couldn't be more awkward than the one they were on. Dean was lying with his back on the floor, while Sam was on the top of him, his long legs tangled with Dean's shorter ones, his tender arms embracing broad shoulders. His right palm acted like a pillow for Dean's head, while his left held the right half of his face, preventing it from turning away. As for Sam's hard cock, it was pressed against Dean's thigh. 

 

But Sam couldn't care less about this. He needed to make Dean open up to him, and he would, one way or the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, ok next chapter is Dean blowing Sam off and the next two are pure sex, i promise!!


	7. A sneak peak, a glimpse of what comes next...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, Dean is has finally calmed down and he must take care of Sam's... little problem... and tell him his plans for Sam's birthday while he jerks him off...  
> THIS CHAPTER IS RATED EXPLICIT (E) FOR A GRAPHIC HAND JOB!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, i kind of loved writting this, i know it's sweeter than you would have imagined it... I don't know I just... felt like it. For Issraa... and all of you!

“What the hell Sam, get the hell off of me-” “You can tell me anything. You can take it out all on me, it's my fault anyway, but you cannot tell me, or even think, that I will forget you, us, or what we have, because I will not allow you to think of me as some... shallow guy who just fucks, or in my case, gets fucked, and then leaves.” Sam said firmly. “Sam... I never meant... I don't... It's not fair what he said, and I feel...” Incoherent words escaped from Dean's lips as the older man tried to put his thoughts in order, with little, to no success in doing so. 

 

He cleared his throat and tried again “I... I can't understand the way he thinks and I need... ” But here Dean's voice cracked as he grabbed Sam's head, placing it on his chest, making sure his hazel eyes could not behold his demise. “I need... you...” “You have me, Dean, that's what I've been trying to make you understand, I am right here.” Sam's voice fainted and the younger man buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck.

 

 

“I'm here... right here, not in a deadly hunt, or miles away at Stanford, but here... with you, and nothing you do, or don't do, will take this away. Nothing, will ever make me think that you have let me down...” Sam muttered feeling Dean's arms towering over him. Strong, callused hands held him impossibly close, crushing him on his brother's muscular chest. Several minutes went by, in silence, with the two brothers lying there, on the cold floor, wrapped in one another. 

 

“The roof... its leaking.”Dean whispered, voice so low that if Sam had taken in a breath at that moment, he would have missed the words coming out of Dean's lips. “Yes, Dean, it is...” he muttered, as hot drops of 'rain' fell on his hair. He nipped and sucked at his pulse point gently, all while caressing his troubled face with his palm, feeling moister under his fingertips as he patiently waited for his brother to come back to him. 

 

It took a lot of coaxing from Sam to make Dean come to his senses, but after what seemed hours to both brothers, but was not more than ten minutes, Dean gently moved Sam from where the younger man had curled and got up on his feet tagging Sam along with him. “Thanks...” was all he managed to say before an epic bitch face was shot at him. “Listen-” “If I ever, I mean, ever, talk about this to anyone, you will make me wash your baby for all my life. Yes, Dean, I know.” said Sam the smile returning to his face, lighting it up. 

 

“Good... now before I get back to fixing the car-” “You figured out what is wrong with it?” Sam asked, interjecting. “I have a couple of ideas...” Dean answered, smiling and took Sam's hand. “But this is not what I meant to say Sammy.” the green eyed man whispered. “I own you something little brother.” “Yeah, come on, get done with it, come on.” Sam said turning his right cheek towards Dean. 

 

Instead of hard knuckles, however, soft lips touched it gently, all while strong arms towered over his chest, pressing Sam's back on Dean's body. “I don't mean a punch Sammy, I mean...” At that point,his sooth voice dropped an octave, if not more, and his right hand traveled down to Sam's lean, muscular body, until it found a very alive and twitching cock, being trapped in a pair of jeans. “Oh, I am sorry-” “Shh, hush baby boy.” Dean mumbled, taking Sam by the hand, leading him back to the house.

 

Once inside, Dean's lips crushed Sam's in a hot, hungry kiss, which took the younger man by surprise, making him tense for a second. He soon relaxed though, opening is mouth and letting Dean claim it with his tongue. “Dean I am -” “I own you a present as well... for your upcoming birthday, that is...” Dean said smirking as he lie Sam's body on the small couch and settled himself between his long legs. 

 

“My birthday... we still have almost two months until my birthday-” “Yes, but now we have a nice room and two beds that I will push together to make one king size bed.” Dean teased, undoing the button and zipper of Sam's jeans, freeing his hard rock cock. “Oh fuck...” Sam muttered biting his bottom lip and covering his cock with his palms. “Wait, Dean, wait.” The older man lifted his eyes and stopped. “I need to know that you are alright-” “I am now, and I will get better, thank you for asking, now let me help you get off, or you will have a problem, and no, I am not joking about it.” answered the green eyed man. 

 

“Dean, I-” “But hot lips shielded his, as the other man covered the distance between them, swallowing Sam's words. “Calm down and breathe for me Sam.” Instructed Dean as he recognized the panic taking over Sam's whole body. Hazel eyes widen, but Sam followed his brother's command, taking in a few slow breaths through his nose. “I am alright now, and I am not mad at you. I know you wanted to help me, and you did.” “But, but this...” Sam muttered, voice trembling, eyes fixed on his cock, “I didn't get it from-” “Sammy, stop thinking, baby boy. I know you didn't get turned on by me being emotional, or by the way we had lie down, out there, in the cabin.” Answered the older man, and a feeling of happiness rose up in his chest.

 

He did love sex with Sam, but what he could literally die for, were those moments, in which Sam's mask cracked, and he was once again this, shy, kindhearted and innocent 17-year-old-boy- blushing and covering his cock. His, special, kindhearted, shy and innocent boy, who felt the need to explain the origins of his boner. Yes, Dean would never admit it, but he damn loved those moments and he loved the fact that he was the one causing and witnessing them, even more.

 

Dean's lips formed a smile as his right hand found its way to brown locks, caressing them tenderly. His left hand rested on Sam's palms, without pushing them aside to touch Sam's cock, his thumb running over his knuckles. “I know Sammy.” This was all it took, for Sam to settle down and relax, completely melting in Dean's touch. He let his right leg fall to the floor and spread his left as far as the couch allowed him to. Dean took his hands in his own, licking and nipping the knuckles he was caressing a minute ago, before gently placing them above Sam's head.

 

“Consider this as a sneak peak,a glimpse of tonight's show, which, I take that you are ok with, right?” Dean asked his hand ghosting over Sam's cock. “Tell me what- Oh fuck, Dean...” Sam almost squirmed at the first touch of his cock. “You are hurting, Sammy?” Dean asked, voice alarmed. 

 

“Since last night when I got you off i- Oh, God...” Dean's face frowned and his eyes pierced Sam. “You have been hard since then, and you didn't get off on your own?” “I wanted you to do it... I'm sorry, Dean, I'm-” “Shh, it's alright, it's fine, Sam. Easy, I've got you now, baby boy.” The older man reassured, voice smooth and tender. He knew that Sam needed to come, his cock was swollen and had an angry-red color which meant that the younger man was at the brink of feeling pain over pleasure, thus, Dean had to be careful.

 

His callused hands could work miracles, he knew exactly how to make Sam a mess in just a few minutes. After all, he was the one who had taught him everything he knew. His fingers were giving firm yet not too hard strokes on Sam's pumping cock, moving skillfully, from base to tip and over the head. “Dean, it's too much, it's... Aghh!” “Hey, hey, no, come on, look at me Sam, look at me baby...” Dean said, voice tight, as he saw Sam shutting his eyes and turning his face away from him.

 

“I am sorry...” “It's alright, I am not mad at you Sam, why would I be? All I want you to do baby boy, is relax. let everything go.” He encouraged, pausing his strokes and moving his hand on Sam's chest, placing it above his heart, in an attempt to get him to settle down. “It's me, Sammy, and I would never hurt you. But you have to relax a little bit, you are way too tensed now. Come on, close your eyes, blank that moving encyclopedia you have for a mind and breathe, just breathe...” he coaxed patiently, like a teacher helping his scared pupil. 

 

Dean bends over even more, his lips brushing Sam's earlobe, mumbling soft whispers which made Sam shiver like a leaf. “I want to tie your hands on the hardboard of the bed... With the ties which I stole from dad's duffle...” Sam's whole body shuddered and he felt big heavy drops of milky pre-come running down his inner thighs and towards his heavy balls. “Dean... please...” he whimpered weakly. The older man used his free hand to tag Sam's T-shirt upwards, revealing his well built body underneath it.

 

“Then... I am going to put you in your hands and knees, with your hands holding the hardboard...” he continued, kissing Sam's exposed neck, while giving one more stroke, feeling Sam's cock twitching, almost painfully, in his palm. Sam's back ached and his hands lashed out, grabbing broad shoulders, his nails digging deep in Dean's skin.

 

A sharp breath, made the older man lock his eyes with Sam's, and he saw hazel being turned into deep green, to the point where it could be considered black. “Then I am going to lick every inch of your back with my tongue, and I will make you come many times before I even put my fingers inside this tight hole of yours...” Dean muttered, voice having a sinful sparkle in it. Moving further down, he kissed and nipped at Sam's pulse point and licked his way down to the center of Sam's chest. “Fuck, Dean I am going to... Dean I'm-” Incoherent moans mixed with broken words escaped Sam's lips and the other man could understand what his brother meant.

 

His other hand- the one which had tagged Sam's T-shirt up- traveled down fast, like a soldier who knew his way towards the target, grabbing heavy balls, wet with sticky white come, and gently tugging them towards him, all while his other hand teased the pumping vein in the back of Sam's cock and then stroked the lower half, making more come slowly ooze out. All this was excruciatingly slow in Sam's opinion though. “I will blow you with my mouth... Then, you will come with my tongue opening your hole up... Then, as you lick my fingers, making them nice and wet so that they can slip inside...” Dean whispered, feeling Sam shaking uncontrollably, as though he could break in pieces. “Dean! It's... God...” “You want that?” asked the green eyed man, not sure that Sam could answer.

 

“Yes! Yes, yes anything, Dean anything! Sam yelled, groaning, as Dean gave one final stroke and felt the spasm on Sam's member, heard the muffed breath right at the telltale second in which Sam's mouth fell open and he got ready to yell his name. In the next second, hot thick come was shot from deep inside him. Shot forcibly, all over Dean's hand, his T-shirt, his jeans, hell, even his chin. 

 

“De-” But Sam's voice was trapped in his throat as he felt the force of his climax robbing him of his breath. His hands pulled Dean closer, holding him for dear life. Dean's lips were on his own in an instant, shielding his moans, his right hand giving him a few more gentler strokes, to help him ride it out, while his left smoothed him, tenderly pushing brown locks, wet with sweat, away from his forehead. “That's it, that's it baby boy, come on, ride it out Sammy...” he muttered in the kiss. 

 

Sam's eyes were wide open, yet blind, a white veil of pleasure and bliss covering them. His body went lax as soon as the last drops of come had left him and the older man cradled him in his arms, protectively shielding his trembling frame with his own body, careful not to touch his now softening cock. “Shh... just breathe Sammy, just breathe baby boy.” He uttered, knowing that Sam's climax was hard and more on the side of pain, than the side of pleasure. Sam melted in his arms, eyes closing. “That's it...” A kiss was placed on his forehead, as Dean gently maneuvered them both, so as to be lying on their sides and face to face.

 

A few minutes later, Sam's eyes cracked open and he saw Dean running his fingers through his messed up hair. “Oh, shit, Dean did I passed-” “Yes, for three minutes or so.” Dean answered back, voice smoothing, his hand on Sam's chest holding him still. “I am sorry-” “Hey, what's this all about? Why are you apologizing?” the older hunter asked. “Because it was just a hand job and-” “And that's exactly why I brought us here.” He muttered, lips brushing over Sam's. The younger man blew up a breath and melted even more in Dean's embrace. 

 

“Did you mean it? What you said, about tonight's plan...” Sam dared to ask, his voice low. “Yes, I meant it, but only if you are ok with it too. There are other ways we can-” “I am more than ok Dean, I want to be yours...” his voice trailed off and his eyes moved away from Dean's emerald ones. “It's just... ” “Just what, Sammy? Tell me.” the older man coaxed. “I've never done anything like that, I had imagined it all in my head, and have watched porn, but I don't...” But his voice fainted.

 

“Hey, hey, it's fine, Sam, look at me, baby boy, it's fine.” Dean reassured him, taking his face in his hands. “What I have in mind, it's meant to make you feel good, you just have to sit back and enjoy it. Plus, when and more importantly, where, did you watch that kind of porn?” he asked. “At school, class was canceled one day and so some dudes brought a few tapes... It was... weird, to say the least.” 

 

“Ok, now, listen up, what we are going to do? It has nothing to do with what I am guessing that you saw. Is that why you asked me if I wanted to play 'games' with you a couple months ago?” Sam lowered his head even more. “I always wanted to try something like that, but, God Dean, I am sorry, I shouldn't have asked you, it's not right-” “Did you ever thought of asking anyone else?” Dean questioned. “What? No, why would I do that?” “Trusting me that much Sam, for me... it means more than you will ever know. So, it's not wrong to want to try things out and I am the one proposing it, not you. I want this too baby boy. Oh, and believe me, I will be getting a lot out of it as well.” he said kissing Sam once more, before getting up.

 

“So, how about we get those chores done?” He proposed, smiling down at Sam. “Yeah, sounds good.” Answered the other man as he put his jeans back on. And so they parted ways, with Dean heading to the cabin and Sam heading towards the kitchen to get what he needed, in order to clean the house up.

 

The hours were passing slowly, and despite the fact that both boys were devoted to what they were doing, their minds could not create the illusion that time was passing by faster than it really was. Because the images of what would happen in a few hours haunted them, and overwhelming feelings of longing and lust were all they could feel. Finally, after hours of non stop work, Dean puts down his screw and got inside the car pushing the key in the keyhole. He closed his eyes and turned it and after four seconds- Dean had counted them- the all too familiar sound of the crapped up engine was heard. The hunter started laughing, more than satisfied with his work. 

 

He glanced at his watch, it was ten o' clock already and he had work to do. He got out of the car and headed towards the house, gasping silently, as he stepped in. The house was now clean, not a speck of dust to be seen. The books were picked up from the floor, the plates and mugs all washed, the various guns, knives, daggers and the like all gathered in the corner, placed in the special box Bobby had. The floors were cleaned as well and the older hunter felt bad for ruining this picture with his presence and for stepping on the shining floors with his dirty shoes. 

 

“Dean, are you done?” Sam said, glancing down at him from the top of the staircase. “Yeah, I managed to fix the engine, so the main part is over.” “Good, I just took a shower and I have to place the plates and the like on the cupboards, lock the door and the windows and then I'm... Um...” “You are always mine, aren't you?” Dean asked teasing. “Shut up jerk.” Sam answered, climbing down the stairs. “See you in a while bitch!” Dean muttered, and Sam could only watch as his brother dissipated in the room upstairs. 

 

Forty minutes later, Sam stood outside of their room, eyes widening. Dean had indeed kept his promise, he had shoved the small nightstand to the side uniting the two beds. He had changed the sheets and had brought a few pillows from Bobby's bedroom, pillows both boys knew the older man never used. His eyes moved from the bed to the nightstand, where he saw a small bottle of lube, two black ties and what seemed, as a piece of Dean's white t-shirt. The young man managed to swallow the lump in his throat, and took a shaky breath to calm himself down. 

 

“Welcome to the 'Birthday present suite.' Dean muttered, standing by the door. Sam turned around at once eyes fixed on Dean. His body was relaxed, his eyes soft. He was shirtless, with his hands in the pockets of his jeans His hair were still damp from the shower he had taken, sparkling under the dim light of the room. “Dean... You're great... I mean, this, this is great, I mean... Wait, why are you wearing your jeans?” Sam said, blushing. “For the same reason I am wearing a cock ring underneath them Sammy.” Dean answered, smiling widely. “Because if I hadn't, I would have come right now, just by watching you blushing and rambling.” he admitted.

 

“Oh shit, Dean, I'm-” “Come here little brother.” Dean said lovingly. Sam imminently obeyed, rushing over to Dean. The green eyed man pulled him in his arms and Sam felt his t shirt touching Dean's bare skin. The older man took his face in his hands, locking their eyes together. “Tonight, it's just you and me. No rules about 'no chick flick moments'. Whatever you want to say, you say it.” “You're serious?” “Deadly. Also, as always, if there is anything you don't like, or if anything gets too much, you will tell me, and we will do other stuff equally hot.” “Dean I am not-” But Dean wouldn't let him speak.

 

“You... are mine, Sam.” He said voice determent, pressing their lips together. “I am, Dean... But you are mine as well.” Sam whispered in the kiss. “Yes Sammy....” Dean answered, taking a few steps back and closing the door behind him. This was going to be a long, beautiful night... And yes, many would say that the two brothers were marching down the path leading to Hell, but for them, it was the path which led to Heaven. But even if the path was indeed leading to Hell, they would still march upon it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, that's it... If anyone is interested, next chapter should be uploaded next Monday... And yes it will have sex. Only sex... and sweet talking. Because i love sweet words... Ok, enough...  
> Thank you all!!! Please leave a comment if you want! If not, press the 'back' baton!


	8. Birthday present Part 1: Tied up and Blindfolded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Dean's present for Sam's upcoming birthday...  
> Chapter is rated E (EXPLICIT) FOR GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about this delay, but the uni takes the best of me... Ok, Thank you all, for your so kind comments, i can not believe my story is interesting enough, given the fact that i am not a native speaker with a mild case of dyslexia...   
> I am so glad you enjoy this, i hope this chapter lives up to your expectations as well...  
> RATED EXPLICIT (E) !!!!!
> 
> OH and a WARNING! This chapter pictures Sam with his hands tied up and blindfolded.

“You... are mine, Sam.” He said, voice determent, pressing their lips together. “I am, Dean... But you are mine as well.” Sam whispered in the kiss. “Yes Sammy....” Dean answered, taking a few steps backwards and closing the door behind him.“Dean... what you said about... the no chick-flick moments' rule, if you doing it just for me then-” Sam began to say only to be interrupted by the sound of the old door closing and Dean's finger on his lips. 

 

“Shh, stop thinking so hard Sam.” he whispered and closed his eyes at the feeling of soft lips nipping at his index finger. After a few seconds the older hunter moved his hands upwards cupping Sam's face again, thumps brushing his cheekbones gently. “I meant what I said, 'no chick flick moments' rule is off for tonight. Which means you can say whatever girly thing you want, in fact, I want you to say all those girly stuff...” Dean whispered, smiling. “So that I can later use them to make you do my share of research!” he said and started laughing at the view of Sam's epic bitch face, which was so close to his own. His laugh was true, however, and rose from deep inside him, making Sam think to himself right then, that if happiness had a sound, it would certainly be Dean's laughter. 

 

It was rare for Dean to smile, let alone laugh this much, and this sound was the most beautiful Sam had ever heard, for it was a mix of happiness, safety, complicity, and pure love. Thus, the younger man could not maintain his 'bitch face' for long. He let his lips turn into an honest smile as his forehead touched Dean's. “I love you, you know...” Sam muttered, as soon as Dean had stopped laughing. But instead of an answer, hot lips brushed over his. The younger man opened his mouth and practically invited Dean in. Their tongues met and the only thing Sam could think of, was how good kisser his brother had become.

 

“Stop thinking Sammy.” The older man repeated, breaking the kiss. “It's you I am thinking about...” Sam answered as Dean led him towards the bed. Apart from changing the sheets Dean had brought in four pillows, which he now placed on the chair by the bed to lie Sam on it. “Well... I have to warn you baby... when I am done with you, you won't even be able to think of your own name.” Muttered Dean as he lay the younger man on the bed, his back touching the mattress.

 

“'Baby?' Now, who's the girl?” Sam asked chuckling. “The rule is off for both of us...” Dean commented as he leaned forwards giving Sam one more kiss. Biting his bottom lip gently, Dean slid in, yet again, and he literary conquered Sam's mouth with his tongue, stealing his words, his moans, as well as his breath, in the process. 

 

Sam wrapped his long arms around his brother's broad shoulders, all while spreading his legs as much as his jeans would allow him to, bringing Dean so very close, feeling every fiber of his body starting to pump with need. Dean's right hand found its way to brown locks, pushing them away from Sam's forehead and tugging them upwards hard enough to earn a groan from his brother. His left hand slid between them -despite Sam's moan of disapproval- grabbing an already half hard cock. Sam drew in a sharp breath through his nose as he felt his cock twitching with every soft move his brother made. The kiss went on for about a minute and only when Dean felt Sam started to shake badly from the lack of air did he pull back. 

 

 

“Wow...” Sam murmured, his hazel eyes fixed on Dean, whose hand was still rubbing his cock. “Dean, you know this works better if you get the clothes-” But before the younger man could utter another word, Dean's hands slid under his T- shirt caressing the lean and muscular body underneath it. In a blink of an eye he tugged it upwards and then over Sam's head and threw it on the floor. He hid his face in the crook of Sam's neck and started his ritual, a ritual he didn't always do, but when he did, Sam would end up begging him to get in him. “Dean... oh fuck...” “So damn sensitive Sammy, you shudder even when I drag my teeth along the length of your neck.” teased the older man, his lips turning into a smile. 

 

“Dean, I thought you wanted to... place me on my hands and knees and fuck me- Oh...” Sam let another low moan escape his lips, as his brother used his hot and so-damn- flexible tongue to lick a wet path from his pulse point, all the way down to his left nipple. Sam's hands grabbed broad shoulders before his mind could control them, his nails marking the flesh as they moved downwards. “ First of all... I would never just 'fuck you', Sam.” Declared the other man, voice low and firm as his green eyes, eyes filled with lust, met Sam's. 

 

“I... I meant that-” “Are you sure you want us to try what I proposed earlier Sammy?” Dean asked, voice low. “Yeah, I want to...” But the younger man lowered his eyes in shame. “Hey, eyes on me little brother, eyes on me.” Dean encouraged. “Come on baby, tell me what you want.” “I want you to do whatever you want with me, to make me yours...” “You are already mine, Sammy, and you will be mine... for-” But the green eyed man stopped himself and cleared his throat. 'Forever.' He wanted to say, but knew this was not possible. “For as long as you want to be.” Dean finally whispered. Sam locked his eyes with Dean's, but didn't say a word. Instead, he brought both his hands between them, clenching the fingers of each hand together and waited. 

 

Dean held Sam's gaze for a long moment, as his mind began to process the fact that Sam was willing to let him do whatever he wanted with him, was ready, to trust him in ways that most people would not even dare to. His eyes blurred and his breath was caught in his throat at the mere thought of Sam trusting and loving him so very much. The younger man saw what was happening and got Dean's face in his hands in an instant. “I trust you with my life Dean. I want this, I've wanted this for some time now, and I know that you would never hurt me. I know it, Dean.” He said, voice nothing more than a whisper, yet firm and sure. The older man nodded his head in approval and stretched his own hand towards the nightstand grabbing the two ties. 

 

“Alright, but we will begin with you lying on your back, so that you have time to get used to this thing.” The green eyed man stated and Sam could only moan a word which resembled the word 'yes' as he felt Dean's lips kissing the inside of his left hand before wrapping the tie around his wrist. The ties were long, so Dean wrapped the soft cotton around Sam's wrist three times before securing it with a knot. He made sure it was tight enough so that Sam could not free himself from it easily, but not too tight to hurt the skin. He slowly stretched Sam's arm above his head and tied the other end of the tie to the upper foot of the bed. 

 

The younger man expected him to repeat the exact same procedure for his right hand, but to his surprise, Dean got his, still slightly bruised wrist, in between his hands, caressing it slowly. “I am sorry this happened Sam...” he muttered, while licking and nipping at the abused skin. “Does it still hurt when I touch it? Be honest with me here, baby boy.” “Yeah, it hurts, but it's nothing I can't handle.” the other man answered. 

 

“Alright then-” “Dean, this is not a reason to stop this, besides, I-” “Hey, slow down Sam, who said anything about stopping?” Dean said and got his hand in his right pocket. “We are not stopping Sammy, but you will put this on.” Dean continued and put a wristband on Sam's right wrist. “What- Is this yours?” Sam asked, face relaxing visibly. Dean smiled, nodding his head as he secured the other tie on the right leg of the bed and around the wristband. “You good? Not hurting, or anything?” “Yeah, I am fine Dean, now how about getting my jeans off, before I come in them like a-” But Sam's lips were shielded by Dean's, as the older hunter leaned on him once again, his hands caressing Sam's waist. 

 

“Shh, I promise the jeans will be out of the way soon Sammy.” Hummed the green eyed man as he placed a pillow behind Sam's back, so that he wouldn't touch the hardboard naked and another pillow under his lower back, in order to have better access to his balls and cock.

 

“Dean, what about that white piece of fabric?...” Muttered Sam and the other man got it in between his fingers and placed it before lustful hazel orbs. “That was just...” “That is a piece of your white shirt, isn't it?” “Yeah, but it's not-” “I... I want you to... blindfold me with it.” “What? No, Sam you are always uneasy when you can't see and I want you to relax and enjoy this.” Answered Dean, voice low. “Dean, please, I am too old to be afraid of the dark-” “Sam, this is different-” “I feel safe here Dean, I am with you, this piece of fabric, it smells like you, it feels like it's your hand, touching me...” “Alright, fine, but if you need it to be removed at any moment you will just say the word, deal Sammy?” “Yes, Dean, now get done with it!” “You are way too bossy for a tied, and soon blindfolded bottom...” smirked Dean as he covered Sam's eyes. 

 

The young man tensed when he reopened his eyes and found himself still unable to see. He took in a sharp, shallow breath and tried to move his hands towards the blindfold, only to be stopped by the ties which were holding them above his head. He felt his heartbeat quickening as a whispered escaped his lips. “Dean...?” “Sam? Sammy? You ok baby? Need me to take that off?” asked the other man, voice worried. “Dean...” repeated Sam, and started to relax at the feeling of Dean's palm resting on his chest, right above his heart. 

 

“Relax Sammy, it's me, I am right here with you.” Muttered the older man as he waited a few minutes for Sam to get use to the feeling of being, both, unable to move his hands and use his eyes. “ Baby boy? You're better now Sammy?” “Yeah, I am, just...” “Just what?” “Talk to me from time to time, please...” “Of course baby boy...” Dean said, voice soft and sweet as he got himself between Sam's legs and stretched his back, so as to be able to kiss and nip Sam's arms. 

 

He ran his fingertips on the soft skin of Sam's hands, his right hand first, and then his left, giving gentle feather-like caresses and receiving low moans of pleasure in return. He then started to kiss his way down, skillful and tender lips nipping and licking a wet path from Sam's palm, going all the way to his shoulder and then back, only to repeat the same procedure in reverse for the other hand. “Dean... Oh God...” Green eyes moved downwards catching a glimpse of Sam's face. “You good, Sammy?” asked the other man as he moved backwards, now leaning on Sam's chest. 

 

“More, Dean, more...” Dean smiled, as he kissed Sam's lips yet again, this time, tenderly, slowly and gently. “Oh... fuck Dean...” “Yeah, we will get there at some point tonight...” said the other man chuckling as he sucked at Sam's pulse point. “Ah, De- Dean...” he uttered as the feeling of Dean's hot and so-very-fucking- flexible tongue run down the length of his neck. The younger man wanted to touch Dean as well and so he tugged his hands towards him, only to be stopped by the ties. “Shh...” hushed the older man as he moved further down, allowing his hands to touch and caress the soft skin of Sam's waist and thighs. 

 

Dean felt as though he was touching silk and made sure to maintain his touch light, due to the roughness of his own skin. “Dean!” Sam squirmed and tugged his hands towards them, this time forcibly,when hot lips and a wet tongue circled around his hardening nipple. “Shh... Hey, no sudden moves, or you will hurt yourself. Easy, easy baby...” Dean whispered, coaxing Sam to relax. He was a master at teasing him and he knew exactly what turned his brother on. He got the nipple in between his teeth and gave it a gentle tug while licking the skin around it. He repeated the same treatment for the other one and by the time he was done, Sam was shaking like a leaf underneath him. “Dean, oh... Dean it's...” But Sam was incapable of forming a sentence.

 

Dean placed a kiss on the center of Sam's, now wet with saliva chest, and stayed still for a few moments, listening to Sam's quickening heartbeat. The most beautiful sound the older man had come to know. “If happiness had a sound, it would certainly be Sam's heartbeat...” Dean thought to himself and blushed, happy that his brother could not see that, and of course, unaware, that the younger man had a similar thought a while back.

 

“I want you to use that big brain you have...” Dean whispered in the kiss “To imagine what I am going to do now, and then, say what you are imagining, aloud.” Sam shuddered at the tone Dean used, a low and sinful tone. The older man moved again, his right hand placed on his side to support him, while his left rested on Sam's chest, to reassure the younger man he was safe, since he wasn't going to be doing a lot of talking the next minutes. Those jeans and the boxes underneath them had to come off, and the green eyed hunter had a plan for them...

 

Shooting a final glance at Sam, the older man kissed his way down to Sam's navel ripping a groan from deep inside his throat and then he placed his mouth on the baton of Sam's jeans. “Oh shit, shit, Dean... You...” Sam felt Dean's hot breath on his twitching cock and felt as though the blindfolded had been removed. He could indeed, imagine, what his brother was doing so vividly... 

 

Dean had taken the button of his jeans in between his teeth and using his tongue and lips he had skillfully undone it. “You.. just unbuttoned my jeans with only your mouth... Oh fuck-” Sam said voice breaking from need, as he felt Dean's teeth, lowering his zipper as well, freeing his cock from its tight prison. A kiss was placed just were his boxes started and not a moment later, they followed Sam's jeans and were tugged down, as much as the older man could lower them with just his mouth that is. 

 

Callused hands caressed his, now naked thighs, gently, and pushed both layers of clothing down to Sam's ankles. “Get them off, Dean get them off!” Sam yelled and the older man obeyed at once, throwing them on the floor as he had done with Sam's shirt. Ragged breaths and incoherent moans escaped Sam's lips. The young man was burning with need and he could literary, hear his heartbeat slamming in his ears. Just imagining all those things Dean had done, and more importantly, all those things he was about to do, were enough to drive him crazy. Damn, why was he able to imagine things so well?

 

Sam felt Deans hands on his knees, spreading them apart as much as possible and his callused fingers taking hold of his pumping cock. “Dean, I...” But Sam was rubbed off his words as he felt Dean's hot mouth on him, licking the back of his member and then moving to his, already, heavy balls. Much like what he had done to his hands, the older man repeated his movements for Sam's balls. He lay a kiss and then he took them in his mouth, his teeth drawing lines, marking them gently, while his tongue nipped them. “Dean, I am going to come... Dean, please, please...” Sam, pleaded and felt the other man smiling. 

 

He released Sam's balls and returned to his cock, which was now fully hard. “Oh, Sammy, if you could only see your face right now...” Dean whispered, his lips ghosting over Sam's cock. He may not be as good at imagining what was happening as Sam, but he could imagine Sam's hazel eyes, almost black with need, wide open, even behind the blindfold. “Dean, oh holly fuck... Please...” At the sound of those words, Dean's own cock twitched painfully, and the older man had to undo his zipper and button, in order to be able to function for the next part. But as soon as he stroked Sam's cock in his hand the younger man tensed. “Wait, Dean, wait, stop...” Sam muttered, making the green eyed man stop dead in his tracks. 

 

“What, Sam, what's wrong baby boy?” he asked, bolting upright, hands on both sides of Sam's face in a blink of an eye. “It's just...” Sam's voice trailed off, but Dean held his face in a vice like grip. “Tell me, Sammy, what, what is it? You hurting?” “No, no I just... I want you to get off too, I can feel how hard you are, even with those jeans on... I want us to get off together and-” Sam's voice fainted as he heard Dean blowing off a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. “Is that it?” “Yeah, I am sorry-” But the younger man stopped talking as Dean's lips kissed his nose and then his lips. 

 

“I can get the jeans off, but I want to come inside you, and we still have a long way ahead of us for that. So, the cock ring stays on, little brother.” “Dean, I can't-” “I told you I would make a mess of you... But if you want us to rub off, we can, even with the ring still on me.” The green eyed hunter smirked wickedly, yet lovingly, placing one last kiss on Sam's lips. He, then, got off the bed to get rid of his jeans and boxes. 

 

Dean saw Sam's face fixed on his, now naked body, and had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his moan, as Sam's face flushed red and his cock pumped between his spread legs. “You have x-ray vision, right?” asked the older man as he climbed back on the bed, leaning on Sam, making sure their cocks touched each other. “Dean!” yelled the younger man at the feel of his brother's hard cock on his own. The older man circled his hips gently, giving Sam what he had asked for. Their cocks were touching each other, rubbing on each other with every gentle, thrust Dean was giving. 

 

“Oh God, Dean, I...” Sam moaned as he tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck to his brother, who grabbed the chance, and bit the soft skin possessively, in a gesture, which would seem to an outsider, as though it had been pulled of a vampire film. White teeth shined for a splinted second, before they were driven into the sensitive flesh, while emerald eyes were reflected almost black on the window, by the bed. Dean's hands grabbed Sam's love handles hard, as the older man moved downwards yet again, burying his face on Sam's crotch, in a swift move. 

 

For Sam, this was something that could not be described, not even by the best narrator in the world. The feeling of Dean's pumping cock on his own, was awesome all by itself, but what made him lose his freaking mind, was, the cold metal of the cock ring touching his burning skin. “Fucking-” But the younger man had no breath left in his lungs, for he had almost screamed in pleasure when Dean had bit his neck, thus, when hot lips circled around his cock, he could do nothing more, than groan pathetically.

 

Dean used his hands to anchor himself between Sam's trembling legs, as he took him deep in his throat, unable to hold back his own moan at the sensation of Sam's cock in his mouth. He widened his cheeks and forced his muscles to relax, in order to give his brother one hell of a blow job. He could tell from just the way Sam was shuddering underneath him that he was close, so he set on a fast pace, moving his head in circling motions, while brushing the hard flesh from base to tip with his tongue. Hot, thick, white drops of pre-come started to ooze from Sam's cock as the older man traced parallel lines on it, with his teeth, only to pat them with his tongue, a second later, spreading the thick liquid all over Sam's member.

 

Sam could no longer control his body and started thrusting forwards forcibly, making the muscles of his hands ache in the process. The overwhelming feeling of Dean's, hot, wet mouth around him, all while his moans were acting like vibrators to his already twitching member, was more than enough to blank his mind. And Dean wasn't helping him stop fucking his mouth, to the contrary, he tightened his hold on his ribs, urging him to go even further down. 

 

He ran his tongue from base to tip once again, making sure that, on the one hand, the head of Sam's cock hit the base of his throat hard, and that on the other hand, he had the few precious moments to pull back just enough, so that he was able to swallow Sam's come safely. He repeated the move for a couple of times and that was it. He could have sworn, he felt the contraction of Sam's muscles a second before a cry of something which resembled his name echoed in the dark room as the younger man came hard, in his mouth, for the second time that day. 

 

 

But this time, his release could not be more on the side of pleasure than it already was. The older man swallowed most of Sam's come, but at some point, withdrew his mouth from the now softening cock and used his hand to help his brother ride his orgasm out. It wasn't that he didn't like the taste of it. No, nothing like that. But he had other plans in his mind.

 

With a few more skillful strokes, Dean was able to give Sam as much pleasure as he could ever get from a blow job. The younger man shivered violently when Dean released his member and rested his head in the center of his chest, kissing and nipping at the sweated flesh, so as to keep him from completely crushing down, yet give him time to catch his breath. He had earned that. Besides, this was just the beginning...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so let the boys get serious on the next chapter!


	9. Birthday present Part 2: I can't live in a world where you do not exist...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the continuetion of the boys love making....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so i have no freaking idea if this is good, i think that it is not compared to what i have read... But i hope you enjoy this anyway... Thank you all, yet again!

“Dean...” Sam whispered after a few seconds, seconds in which, his mind was too blank to operate, his breathing was too shallow and therefore, no words could be formed, not even his brother's name, and his body was shaking with aftershocks hard enough that Dean had to cradle him in his arms to calm him down. “Are you alright there, Sammy?” Asked the other man, lying kiss after kiss on his chest. “You want us to stop?” “No!” came the answer from Sam, in a blink of an eye. “I just want to see you now, please, Dean... and I want us to...” But Sam's voice trailed off.“Alright, ok, anything you want, Sammy. Besides, I don't want you to be blindfolded for the next part.” Stated Dean, as his tender hands removed the piece of fabric from his brother's eyes. 

 

The younger man had to blink several times in order to get used to having his vision back, but once he was able to see again he couldn't hold back a cry of surprise. “Dean, oh God...” he said as his eyes took in the image of his brother's pumping cock, as he had never seen it before. It was huge, had an angry red color and it was literary, screaming for release. The image was so hot, that Sam felt his cock begin to fill with blood yet again, “Dean, let me-” “Shh, no, don't worry about me, not now, baby boy, tonight is for you.” the older man said, voice low. “But...” “Tell me what else you want Sammy.”Dean muttered softly, lips brushing over Sam's jaw. 

 

“You... I want you, to make love to me... Unlike any other time we have before.” Sam answered, his hazel eyes fixed on Dean. “Gladly Sammy, gladly.” Dean responded, kissing Sam's lips again. “On your hands and knees baby.” the older man said, pausing for a moment, locking his eyes with Sam's. “You want that Sammy?” “Yeah, now untie me-” “Sam, I want you to say it, baby boy.” the younger man sighed, but didn't hesitate to reassure his brother once more. “I am sure I want this, Dean.” he said, voice low, filled with lust, but sure.

 

The older man smirked, untied Sam's hands and let the younger man get on his hands and knees. “Oh, Sammy...” he hummed as he placed a kiss on Sam's shoulders. “I want you to take hold of the hardboard with both hands and spread your legs wide, Sammy.” The younger man obeyed at once, spreading his legs to the point where the inner muscles of his thighs started to burn. Dean also got on his knees and leaned on Sam's back, placing one hand over Sam's, tangling their fingers together, making sure he too, held the hardboard. His other hand lay on the small of Sam's back spreading the remaining come which was still on it all over the silken, sweaty, skin. 

 

 

“Dean, is that... Oh, fuck...” Cursed the young man at the feel of callused fingers wondering at his back, writing the word 'MINE' as many times as possible, using his own come as an 'ink.' “You... Jerk, you stole this, I had done-” “If you're still able to talk, then I am doing a poor job.” commented the older man, lips nipping Sam's neck, but well aware that he was indeed, stealing, his brother's idea as well as the words he had told him the previous night, when he was blowing him off. He moved his hand from Sam's back to his chest, tugging the younger man close to him, while offering him the necessary support. 

 

 

The green eyed man bend forwards making sure his tongue was moist and started licking latter after latter, while blowing hot breaths on the sparkling skin. “Dean, Dean, oh... fuck...” Sam muttered trembling. His hands grabbed the headboard even harder, grabbed it for dear life, his knuckles turning white from the effort and the pressure. The older man moved a few inches away from Sam and freed the hand which was touching Sam's only to bring it before cinnamon tasting lips. “Want you to lick my fingers baby boy...” Dean muttered and groaned as his brother obeyed. 

 

Sam filled his mouth with saliva and used his tongue to skillfully moist and soften Dean's index and middle finger,much like when he was sucking his cock. His tongue was wrapping itself around every finger as though it was a thin, silk scarf, meant to conceal the finest neck from the cruel wind of the winter. The older man drew in a sharp breath and moaned his brother's name, his eyes fluttering close. After a few seconds though, he reopened them, placed a kiss on Sam's upper back and resumed his task of licking every bit of skin, while brushing his, now way too hard cock, over Sam's hole. 

 

Thirty three vertebrae he counted, as he kissed each and every one of them, starting from the top of Sam's neck, all the way down to the small of his back and thirty four, -well, with his mind screaming at him to shove his cock in that beautiful hole he had been rubbing for more than five minutes now, of course he would make a mistake...- as he licked his way back up. His other hand teased Sam's left nipple, softly tugging the sensitive skin towards him. He heard Sam moan, a sound coming from deep inside his throat and cast a glance on his cock, which, was begging for just a few strokes to be mercifully given on it. 

 

He chuckled and moved a few inches backwards, lowering his head so as to be able to see Sam's pink hole. He blew out a breath making the younger man shiver violently and then started to lick and nip at the cleft of his ass. He tried to push his tongue inside Sam's tight heat, but felt the muscles of his rim cramping with tension. “Shh, Sammy, relax, breathe through your nose for me baby. Come on, deep breaths now, deep breaths...” he coaxed lovingly and waited for his brother to obey. Sam shuddered, yet again, overwhelming need paralyzing his mind. “Sam, Sammy, easy baby, it's me, just me, come on now, breathe, or I am calling this off.”

 

The other man did indeed willed his body to relax, letting himself surrender completely, to the loving touch of Dean's hands and body. As soon as he did so, he felt Dean's tongue sliding into his hole, moisturizing the rim and then the tight inner muscles as the older hunter buried his mouth deeper and deeper by the second, slowly working up Sam's hole, his nose gently touching the sensitive skin, just a few inches higher. It seemed as though Dean could somehow keep going further, as he restlessly turned and bend his tongue inside Sam's ass making the younger man unleash moan after moan of pleasure, while he, once again pushed himself back on the rubber-like tongue, wanting, seeking, needing more of it, no, not more of it, but all of it.

 

“You want to come baby? Huh?” he asked, darting his head up, from where it was hidden, making Sam wail at the feeling of cold air on his asshole. “Bet you do, look how very much alive our little friend down there is...” he teased, almost wickedly,voice sinfully low and happy, but didn't place his hand anywhere near Sam's cock.

 

 

Sam could only groan, and nod in approval, as he felt hot come being pushed further down his painfully pumping cock. “Hmm...” the older man hummed joyfully, as he once again resumed his task of rubbing his own twitching member on Sam's hole. Sam jerked his head upwards and then to his left to face his brother. Huge, hazel eyes, huge, needy, loving, pleading, begging, puppy dog eyes, met emerald ones and Dean felt his breath getting caught in his throat yet again. He pushed his fingers further inside Sam's mouth and kissed Sam's pulse point, and then the back of his neck, his lips acting as though he wanted to eat the younger man. 

 

Sam's eyes blurred, as he felt his balls tightening . Dean's mouth was conquering the skin on his neck and shoulders, all while urging him to come untouched. And that's exactly what he did. He instinctively bit Dean's fingers hard, but not hard enough to draw blood and came for the second time, his cries muffled by Dean's fingers. His whole body was shaking, as thick shots of come were splashed all over the pillows, the sheets and the hardboard. Dean held him impossibly close, Sam's back on his chest. Held him with a vice like grip, feeling the drum-like beat of his heart on his skin.

 

The green eyed man groaned too, as his cock was helplessly trapped in that cock ring, but he pushed the feeling aside for the moment, knowing that he would get rid of it soon enough. He pulled his fingers out of Sam's mouth and heard the younger man rasping his name as he tilted his head to the side to meet his eyes. “Dean... Jesus fucking... Oh God... I... Did I just-” But hot lips stopped his rambling as the older man rested his forehead on Sam's, crushing their lips together. “Yeah, you just did... You came untouched Sammy. Just like I had promised you...” he shrugs, lips turning into a smile.

 

The younger man let his hands fall to his sides and lean completely on Dean's chest, melting in it, as he let himself be cradled by tender hands. For a minute, if not more, the only sound which could be heard was the sound of short, uneven breaths as Sam tried to lure himself out of the hazy realm he had entered. “You... Dean, I want you to...” “I know what you want Sammy, and I am going to give it to you baby...” he muttered as he lay Sam, face down, on the mattress and got the cock ring off of his own member. He had to bite the inside of his cheek so as to keep himself from coming right then. 

 

He poured a generous amount of lube to his already wet fingers and circled Sam's rim tenderly, before pushing them inside the tight hole. Sam's eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, but his brother was fast on leaning on his back, whispering muffled praises and reassurances to his ear, while brushing the tips of his fingers inside the walls of Sam's hole, slowly, softly and gently, gentler than needed, loosening it and stretching it. He added a third finger, while lightly patting the entrance of Sam's hole with his tongue.

 

Sam could only beg for more, as muffled incoherent words escaped his lips. He grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, his knuckles turning white as he almost tore them apart. His cock was now hard again trapped underneath him, and the young man tried to rub off on the bed, only to be stopped by Dean's voice in his ear. “No, no cheating Sammy.” “Please Dean, please, I am ready, please...” he begged, trembling uncontrollably. “Oh, are you now?” teased the other man, hitting Sam's prostate hard with all three of his fingers. “Dean!! Oh, Fuck, Dean, again, again!” he yelled and closed his eyes tightly. “Oh Sammy... Baby, you feel awesome...” the older man whispered, as he drove his fingers even more into that sweet, tight hole, fucking Sam shamelessly on them, getting his cock fully hard again.

 

Dean took his time, and fucked Sam slow and sweet on his fingers, opening him up carefully, and ripping moan after moan out of him. “Dean, please, I can't, I can't... Please...” “Say it...” Dean said as he kissed the top of his head. “Say it Sammy, I want to hear it.” “ I love you Dean!” Sam yelled. “I know you do, baby boy, and I love you too, more than you will ever know.” he muttered, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. “But this is not what I want to hear...” “I want you... to love me, to make love to me... now.” Sam said out of breath and Dean waited no longer. 

 

He tugged Sam upwards placing him on his hands and knees again, only this time, much closer to the hardboard than before. He wiggled closer to him and poured more lube on his hand, this time, placing it on his own cock, mixing it with pre-come. They had never had sex with Sam on his hands and knees, despite the fact that they were both well aware it was both, easier as well as, hotter that way.   
No, Sam wasn't comfortable in that position, he felt too embarrassed and even a little scared, not being able to see Dean. 

 

To his surprise, when he had finally spoken those words, the older man didn't laugh, didn't call him a girl, he didn't even tease him. To the contrary, he had assured him that they would do whatever he felt comfortable with, in any way he wanted them to. And, as always, he had been true to his word. Each and every time they they made love, the older man would make sure they were either facing each other, or were on their sides, so that Sam could easily see and feel Dean. 

 

“Sammy, you ok with us in this position?” he rasped as he guided his cock towards Sam's ass. “Yeah, I am, now get in me!” “Bossy, little brother...” the older man said smirking as he slowly pushed inside, feeling the, still tight muscles, clenching around his cock. He kept going until he was buried to the hilt, sliding in the awesome heat of Sam's ass. The younger man touched the hardboard with his chest and grabbed fistfuls of the old wood as he tilted his head down, in an attempt to control his body and not tense. “Shh, shh, I am right here Sammy, you feel awesome around me baby, awesome...” he muttered, leaning over Sam's back, placing kisses on his neck, on his cheeks, and where ever else he could. 

 

He stayed still for what seemed like an eon, but was not more than half a minute, willing his body to fight the overtaking need to fuck Sam's ass, right that God- damn second. He caressed his back, moving his hands all over its length repeatedly, whispering nonsense to the burning skin. “Oh God, Sammy, I love you so much baby boy...” “Dean...” Sam uttered, and moved his hips backwards a little bit, giving his brother the signal he needed. The older man started off slow, giving gentle thrusts, allowing Sam's muscles to relax even more. “Dean... faster, please...” Sam pleaded and the older man obeyed.

 

He kissed his way down Sam's spine, took a hold of his love-handles, to brace himself, and got almost all the way out before thrusting back in. “Dean...” “I'm right here Sammy, right here baby.” he reassured as he pulled backwards and then dived back in, time, and time again, feeling his cock twitching inside Sam's ass. In the next thrust he slightly changed his angle and applied more pressure. “Dean, oh God, there, right there!” Sam yelled, arching his back to get more of Dean's cock inside him. 

 

The older man smiled and made sure he kept the same angle for his next thrusts, made sure, that the head of his cock hit Sam's prostate over and over again. “Again, Dean, do it again, please, please!” Sam pleaded, shaking. “Oh fuck Sam, you are a living, walking, temptation...” Dean moaned, kissing Sam's shoulder, all while his fingers clenched around Sam's skin hard enough that Dean was damn sure he would leave bruises on him. “Harder Dean, more, more...” Sam said, as he pushed his own hips backwards forcibly, as Dean pushed his, forwards. 

 

 

“Shh...I've got you baby...” Dean uttered, thrusting harder inside of Sam, extracting cry after cry of his name, cries which were emerging from the depths of his throat, of his body, of his soul, cries of pure, boundless, pleasure. “Oh fuck Sammy... so fucking good, so good, so good baby...” Dean said aloud as he, too, lost himself in the sensations he was receiving with every thrust. His heart was beating like a drum, slamming in his ribs, and he could feel the sweat running down his lean body. “Sammy, I... I won't last much longer, I'm sorry baby boy...” he muttered as he felt his orgasm getting closer by the second. It was praiseworthy, that he had managed to hold it back for this long, so Sam wasn't surprised as the echo of those words reached his ears. Besides, his own cock was screaming for release as well.

 

“Harder, Dean, harder, I'm begging you...” Sam groaned tilting his head to his side to get a glimpse of his brother. “Sammy, no, any harder and I will hurt you.” Dean declared, as he slowed his thrusts down. “Please Dean... who knows what will come down upon us next, what danger, what devious shadow... I don't care if I won't be able to walk tomorrow, I don't fucking care Dean... All I care about is you. So please...” There was no room for arguing here, Dean knew that. Besides, he wanted more too, he needed more. But not because he was afraid of the shadows and the monsters coming to get them. But because, he was afraid that Sam would soon leave for Stanford.

 

“Please Dean...” the younger man repeated, and the older man made up his mind in an instant. “Do you trust me Sam?” “With my life.” “Alright then.” Dean said and slowly pushed Sam even more towards the headboard, furling his hands in the process. “Grab it with both hands and let yourself relax.” Sam did as he was told, and felt Dean placing a hand around his chest and pulling him close, so very close to him. Sam's arms stretched a little as Dean pulled him towards him, practically sitting on his heels. “I want you to spread your legs open wide, over mine Sammy. Can you do that?” he asked patiently, and Sam obeyed.

 

He felt the muscles of his thighs burn, but he also felt Dean's cock sliding in, much, much, deeper than before brushing his prostate. “Oh God, oh...” Sam tried to speak, but could not find the words, no, all those feelings he had, he couldn't speak of them. It was too much, all this pleasure, it wasn't right for one man to feel so much pleasure and love and need and lust for just one other being...

 

“Dean...” Tears run down his cheeks before he could control himself. “Sammy? You're hurting? Baby? Turn around Sam, turn around, now!” He commanded, and Sam darted his head to the side. “Oh God, Sam, get off, I am hurting you-” But Sam wouldn't have that, he shielded Dean's mouth with his own and let his right hand fell from the hardboard only to grab the one Dean had around his chest, tangling their fingers together. Dean reflexively lashed his free hand out and also took a hold of the hardboard, slamming Sam's chest on it as he did so.

 

“Sam, you're-” “Have you ever...” Sam muttered voice breaking, fingers holding Dean's so tight that he was sure he had cracked them. But he couldn't care less. “Sam, if you don't get off of me right the fuck now and let me see how bad you're hurting-” “Have you ever thought... That... That your love for me, or, dad, or someone else, is too much? That, it is not normal to love someone so much? Because, God said that we should love all people. But, you don't care about them, not really, not as you care for that one person, because all their love combined is not enough, compered to what you feel for just that one person...” Sam whispered, more tears running down his face.

 

“Have you ever felt the need to justify your feelings, and ask, no, beg, God for forgiveness? Forgiveness, Oh yes, for sinful desires, for almost unbearable lust, hunger even?” Forgiveness, for this... This, hellish fire that burns inside your veins, a fire which indicates a sinful, yet sweet and somehow... pure passion for that person? Sam uttered, unable to stop himself. Dean's eyes widened, and blurred, but he somehow managed to find his voice. 

 

“Are those feelings the only ones you get when we are together, when I am buried inside you, buried so deep inside you, like I am now?” Asked the older man as his hand left the hardboard to cup Sam's cheek. “No, they are not Sammy, they are not the only ones. Thus, what about, the rejuvenation, or the utter and boundless happiness and complicity, or the safety and the unconditional love you feel? Should they, be judged as well? Why? Didn't God, or I don't know who else, gave them all to you?” Dean whispered, eyes fixed on Sam's.

 

Dean smiled and kissed Sam's lips before restarting his thrusts. Sam stood frozen for a moment, but he then smiled as well. He wanted to say something, but he knew he didn't have to, Dean could understand. Dean could always understand... He freed his hand from Dean's and grabbed the headboard yet again, using his hands to thrust hard on Dean's pumping cock, practically, riding the older man. “Oh, Sammy, that's it, ride me baby, come on, do what you want, don't be afraid to feel...” He said, as he stretched his hands over Sam's, to maintain his balance. “Oh, God...” he moaned with every thrust Sam would give.

 

“Sam... I am going to come baby...” he said at the feel of Sam's prostate being hit by the head of his cock. Sam's member almost cramped and the older man grabbed it giving a few strong strokes. Their balls would crash every time Sam lowered himself on Dean's cock. “Sammy, I promise you, tomorrow we are so, going to do this face to face, I'll let you ride me, Sammy... Oh fuck...” Dean said as he felt his orgasm burning everything in its path. Dean grabbed Sam, sliding one hand over the younger man's chest, pressing his face in his neck, bringing them so very close, that one could not make out where Sam ended and where Dean started. 

 

“Sam... Sammy!” Dean yelled as he felt burning, white fire, ripping his insides apart. The older man came and came and came in Sam's ass until he felt there was nothing left inside him. He came so hard, that Sam's body jolted enough to make the bed shake for a second. “Oh God, Dean!” Sam howled, and followed his brother down the path of bliss seconds later, shooting hot come over Dean's palm. 

 

The older man kept thrusting in and out of Sam, the sound of wet flesh crushing onto, also, wet flesh as well as, the sounds of incoherent moans were the only sounds in the house for some minutes. Dean helped them both ride out their climaxes, for as long as possible and then he ever so slowly lowered them both to the mattress, laying them on their sides, cock still pumping inside Sam's ass.

 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, wrapped in one another, breathing the same air, sharing the same heart, the same soul... “Have you ever felt that... you can't exist in a world when a specific person is not in it? That you would rather die, than live without him? Because, in the eyes of the world he might be just one man... But for you, this specific person, is, your entire world?” Dean muttered and Sam's eyes flew open. The older man smiled as he run his fingers through brown locks. “Yes.” was all Sam uttered, as he felt Dean's cock slipping out of him and moaned at the loss. “Shh, sleep baby, sleep now Sammy.” he whispered, kissing his forehead.

 

Hot, thick, come, ran freely down his inner thighs and at the already stained sheets. Dean got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. He wet a washcloth with hot water and returned to the bedroom. “Shh, no, relax Sammy, it's just me...” he muttered as Sam, who was now half asleep, stirred, as he felt Dean's added weight on the bed. The green eyed hunter cleaned them both up and tugged Sam in his arms, covering them with the thin blanket. “Best present ever, Dean...” Sam mumbled in the crook of his brother's neck. 

 

“Hmm... I am glad you enjoyed it Sammy... Sleep now baby boy... I will be here when you wake up.” Dean answered kissing the top of his head. He watched in silence for a long time, as Sam' breathing slowly even out, well aware of the pattern, a rare pattern witch meant Sam was in a peaceful sweet sleep. Only then, did he allow himself to mutter a few words no one ever heard... 

 

“Should one of us travel in the darkest pits of Hell, as a punishment for our love, or our 'sinful lust' for one another...Then... I am begging you... Oh Lord, send me down that road, That road, which leads in the Abyss. Yes, me, not my brother. Not Sam, not him... He whispered, tightening his hold on Sam. After a while ,he, too, fell asleep, his mind now clear and happy, holding Sam in his arms, concealing him from all enemies, even from God himself.

 

Dean held Sam in his arms, ignoring the fact that John and Bobby were at the same time discovering that, the witch they had been chasing was already dead, and therefore, they would be back sooner than expected...   
In exacty twenty four hours...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so... um if it was good please please tell me. If it was bad please please also tell me, so that i can somehow improve it. If it was that bad then... Well, just don't kill me please...
> 
> If anyone is interested next parts will be delayed, due to my studies, but they will be posted in a week and a half at most!  
> Hope you all enjoyed it!!!


	10. Just A Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A note!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! Thank you all for all your support!! I hop you like the story!

Hello to you all!! Thank you for leaving comments, kudos, and for subscribing!!! And of course thank you for reading my story!!

 

I Am so so sorry for not updating for this long! I finished my exam period but got sick and had to stay in the hospital for more than a week... i just got settled back home. I will update as soon as possible!!! I promise you!!!! Please forgive me, i have not given the story up!! I just got sick!!!  
Thank you for putting up with me!  
Hope you will not give up on the story!!!  
My best wishes to you all!!


	11. The morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wakes up in Dean's arms and the older man plays one more game with him. A game which brings up things the younger Winchester had been thinking and feeling for a long time. Things which could prove to be destructive for their relationship...  
> Chapter is RATED E (Explicit) for graphic hand job! (Should I change the rating to Explicit for good?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!!!!! Thank you all for all your support and sweet comments! I am better now, finally so I managed to update! Once again, I hope you will forgive my delay, but I really got sick!!  
> I hope you will enjoy the chapter! (Should I change the rating to Explicit for good?)

Sam's eyes fluttered open slowly, reluctantly, his body refusing to leave the realm of peaceful and sweet sleep which was surrounding it. He felt rough, yet gentle, knuckles running through his hair repeatedly, and hot, even breath, on his forehead. “Dean...” he whispered, voice a little hoarse from both sleep, as well as his moans and groans of the previous night. “You with me for real this time Sammy?” The older man asked chuckling. “Yeah, good morning...” muttered Sam, whose eyes were now open and clearing from the haze of sleep. 

 

Hazel orbs met bright green ones and only then, did the younger man became aware of the fact that he had somehow managed to furl his body in order to fit in, in Dean's embrace, while both of them were on their sides, facing one another. Dean's mouth and nose were touching the top of Sam's head, his right hand was resting protectively over his slim waist, while his left, on the pillow above their heads. Dean had placed it in such a way, so that he could run his knuckles through Sam's brown locks, without waking him up. 

 

Sam inhaled deeply and let his body relax under Dean's touch. “I like it when we wake up like this...” Said Sam as Dean placed a kiss on his forehead. “Oh, so sweet Samantha...” teased the other man. “You really do know how to ruin a good moment, don't you?” questioned the young man as the last traces of sleep were slowly, but surely, leaving him, giving their place to awareness. “Why do you ask if I am awake for real?” “Well, lets just say...” Dean said, choosing his next words carefully “That you've been calling my name in your sleep for more than forty minutes now.” “What? Wait, how do you know it? Did I woke you up? What else have I been mumbling about?” 

 

“Wow, Wow, one question at a time dude, I am not a geek like you, to be able to answer them all at once.” He replied, his smile now wide, lighting up his face. “I've been awake for some time now, force of habit you see, so it wasn't you who woke me up.” The young man let out a breath at the sound of those words. “Secondly, you mumbled something among the lines of “'More, please, fuck, I need you'... and other stuff.” “Oh, um, Dean I didn't mean-” Sam tried to justify himself, only to be cut off by his brother.

 

“What, you weren't dreaming about me? Oh, I am offended!” “Shut up, jerk!” hummed the other man, smiling as well. “So, I take it that it was a good dream?” “Yeah, this one was...” Sam whispered, his voice husky, a mix of happiness, and tranquility and yet, Dean could hear a trace of fear in it as well. And the older man knew what Sam was thinking. 

 

“Hey, hey Sammy... You know that I...” The older hunter thought about saying something to further tease his brother, but his heart had different plans. “That I have never broken a promise I've made you. This means that I will not break the one I made you in the car either. I am right here, little brother, and I am not going anywhere any time soon.” Hazel met emerald and Sam felt a tremendous amount of gratitude for his brother and his ability to read him so well, as well as his ability to drive his fears away. “Good morning to you too Sammy...” Dean said after several seconds of silence. Sam smiled at him and kissed his neck, hiding his face in it, as the sunlight illuminated their room.

 

Sam lifted his head after a while and got ready to ask his brother if he had heard from their dad and Bobby, but as soon as he got ready to do so, he found himself unable to utter a single word. Because right next of him laid Dean, who was looking at him with those bright eyes. Even the best jewelry, the finest of emeralds, could not shine like those astonishing eyes did right then. Under the sunlight, which was now bathing Dean's muscular body, they were shining, and for a moment, just one moment, Sam was sure, he could see each and every hue of green in existence, reflected in those eyes.

 

“Are you feeling alright? You're not hurting, or anything?” questioned the green eyed man after a while. “Oh, what a girl!” Sam teased, smiling. The older man didn't answer, for he was pressing his lips on Sam's neck right where the mark from his bite was. “Guess I got carried away Sammy.” “Nah, we just have to hide that.” muttered the young man. “Unless you mean you got carried away and showed me the girl you hide inside...” “Oh come on dude, you can't be such a jerk!” “Me? Oh, I don't think so! Besides, you were calling me 'baby' yesterday!” “As if you didn't like it!” Dean shot back, but Sam could tell he was not angry.

 

“You didn't answer my question Sam.” Dean repeated. Sam let out a sigh as he spoke. “Well, I do feel sore and... used even, but in a good way.” “Huh... I see...” Dean hummed. “Then, I can only assume, you wouldn't mind getting off again 'cause, you know... Your partner down there is requesting my attention. For quite some time now...” Sam could swear he almost squirmed as Dean placed his thigh on his half hard cock. “I am not the only one who's hard Dean.” Sam replied, voice sinfully low. “I can feel you, how hard you are.” He continued, as his hands slid down Dean's lean waist, moving fast, caressing his thigh and his belly before grabbing his cock. 

 

“Oh, sonofabitch...” Dean swore, closing his eyes, letting his own hands find their way down to Sam's crotch. “Dean! What- now I won't be able- oh fuck!” “Shh, no, you don't have to think Sam, just let your body fall to a rhythm, come on Sammy.” Dean coaxed, breath coming out in short gasps. His callused hands were swift, yet gentle, always gentle, setting on a fast pace, working up Sam's cock, hardening it completely, making it twitch, begging for release. Sam followed his brother's instructions and willed his body to relax.

 

It was as though his brain had given itself away to bliss, Sam was feeling his whole body trembling with need and lust and enjoyment. It seemed impossible for any part of it to be able to function. Yet, his hands did, they were stroking Dean's member fast, speeding up and slowing down whenever Dean did speed up, or slowed down his own hands. “I want you, Dean...” Sam moaned, his mouth falling open as the older man gave a strong pull at his balls. 

 

“What is it that you want Sammy?” Dean asked in between incoherent moans. “Kiss me. I want you to kiss me.” “Your wish is my command, but be careful what you wish for...”Dean muttered, chuckling. Leaning forwards gracefully, the older man covered the small distance between them, connecting their lips. 

 

 

They kissed with passion and with heat, with love and care, so much love and care, that it would be enough to convince everyone that they were doing nothing wrong. The kiss went on and on, none of the boys wanting to end it. They would take in small breaths through their noses- whenever that was possible- and then either Sam or Dean, would push inside harder, tongues battling for dominance almost brutally, teeth marking lips from both, the outside, as well as the inside. 

 

Leaving their marks, claiming each other, a claim irreversible, which would always be there, no matter how many years would go by, no matter the fact Sam could get married to some sweet girl, or the fact that Dean could at some point of his life, fuck every waitress in a bar. Because this was a pure kiss, a kiss you may share more than once, but with just one person, the one that will own a piece of your heart, forever. 

 

Only when the older man felt hot tears falling on his shoulder did he broke the kiss for a few seconds, to get a glimpse of his brother. Dark, thunderous eyes, filled with lust and love and a million, if not more, similar emotions were staring back at him. But it was their color which made Dean freeze. Dark hazel, mixed with green and with a light hue of blue was their color, a color Dean could swear he would have to find a name for. There they were, meant only for Dean, shining with (almost) unshed tears.

 

“It's not... I'm not...” But Sam found himself unable to continue, for the older man tugged him closer to his chest with his free hand, while his other hand brought their pumping cocks closer as well, brushing them together. “Dean!” Sam uttered, at the feeling of Dean's thick cock on his own. But that was not all. The green eyed man brought Sam's hand over both of their cocks, and placed his own above it, jerking them both at the exact same time.

 

“I am not...” Sam said yet again, but Dean interrupted. “I know Sammy, I know.” he whispered, knowing that those were tears of happiness, not tears of discomfort, or pain. “I love you.” Sam muttered at last, moaning loudly as the older man gave both of their cocks a strong stroke, using Sam's hand to do it. “Oh shit, Dean it's awesome... Oh fuck, fuck, fuck Dean...” “You're a bad boy who's swearing too much Sammy...” Dean rasped, darting his head upwards. 

 

 

“Guess I'll have to punish you for that...” he continued chuckling, giving stroke after stroke to their cocks. “Maybe, not allow you to come... A fair enough punishment for saying such words, don't you think?” “No, shit, no, please, please Dean, let me, please let me...” Sam pleaded, his mind unable to process the fact that Dean was just messing with him. And the older man would be lying if he didn't admit he fucking loved it. “You wanna come, don't you? Look at you, face flushing red, body shaking like a leaf...” Dean teased, smiling. “Dean stop saying such stupid- OH God...” Cried the younger man as hot thick drops of pre-come from Dean's cock fell on his own. 

 

“You like it, don't you? The way our cocks are rubbing on each other, while we are jerking off, holding hands and facing one another...” “Dean I'm going to-” “What? You're gonna what, Sammy? Tell me.” Said the older man, shivering slightly. “Come. I'm... going to come, Dean, please...” “Come for me Sammy, or don't come at all.” “Anything you want Dean, anything for you... But please...” Sam pleaded yet again, using his own hand to give a strong pull on both their cocks, making more pre come ooze out. His long fingers, spread the hot liquid over their members, a move which tore a sinfully sexy moan from Dean's throat, a moan of something, which resembled Sam's name. 

 

“Oh sonofa- Sam!” yelled the other man, darting his head forwards, kissing Sam's lips. “I'm gonna... I'm gonna come Dean...” Moaned Sam, feeling his cock twitching, almost painfully. And all of a sudden a firm hand was clenching around its base, making Sam's eyes fly open.

 

“What the-” “No, not yet, wait Sammy, wait for me, just a little longer baby boy... I'm close too.” He managed to say, in between ragged breaths. Sam nodded, giving a couple more strong strokes. And that was enough for them both, as they came almost simultaneously, with Sam shooting hot come just a few heartbeats before Dean did. 

 

Thick come ran down their thighs and stained the sheets, one more time. The younger man fell forwards, hiding his face in Dean's chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart. He was unable to stop his body from shivering violently and only when Dean-who was shaking as well- tugged him in his arms, after he had cleaned them up with the edge of the sheet, he felt he could take in, a deeper breath.

 

 

Dean's hands towered over Sam's trembling frame swiftly, as the older man kissed the top of his head. “That was fucking hot.” He stated, covering them both with the sheet. Inhaling deeply, Dean let his brother's smell surround him. A smell of sweat, sex, come and pure Sam, traveled down his nose and filled his lungs, reaching every fiber of his body. “Yeah, tell me about it...” muttered the younger man, further pushing his face on Dean's chest. 

 

“You didn't like it?” Dean asked, his voice now serious. “I... I did, it's just...” “What? Sam, what is it baby boy?” Coaxed the other man, while caressing Sam's back. “Nothing, let it drop, it's nothing.” “Sam, stop this and tell me what's bothering you.” Dean said, trying to get a hold of Sam's face. 

 

“You'll just start laughing, and I'm not in the mood for it right now.” Sam replied, turning his back on Dean. “Come on now Sammy, don't be like that, tell me what's wrong.” Dean rasped, stretching his hand over Sam's waist, but the younger man moved away from his touch. “Sam, come on, I won't laugh alright? I won't laugh I promise Sam.”

 

“It was fucking embarrassing! You made me act like a stupid little kid, made me say all those chick-flick nonsense! 'Anything for you...' Great, just great! And the way you were looking at me, the very fact that you were, looking at me, and the way you brushed our... You know what, and the whole 'Your hand on mine' crap, and all those stuff you said, and-” But Sam's rambling was cut off by the sound Dean's deep, warm laughter.

 

“You... Oh God, Sam, I'm sorry, Oh...” But the older man couldn't utter another word, as one more wave of laughter emerged from deep inside him. “You fucking jerk.” Sam shot at him, voice filled with anger and embarrassment. “You stupid, idiot jerk.” he repeated snarling, pushing the sheets to the side, getting off the bed. “Sam no, wait I didn't mean to make fun of you.” Dean said, with a cheerful, happy voice. “Screw you Dean.” Sam rasped, as he got ready to walk away from the bed. His knees didn't seem to agree with that plan however, and the younger man felt his inner thighs burn almost painfully. 

 

 

“Sam! Easy baby boy, you're still sore from-” “I said, screw you!” Yelled the other man, forcibly pushing Dean's stretched hand away with his own. Dean didn't loose cheerful attitude however and grabbed Sam's left wrist, preventing him from taking another wobbly step, pulling him back in his embrace and on the bed. “Let go of me-” Sam rasped, feeling Dean's lips turning into a smile. “Sammy, come on-” “It's 'Sam!'” shot the younger man. “No, not for me.” Answered Dean and in a blink of an eye laid them both on the bed, on their sides and fixed his eyes on Sam's. "Let got of me, Dean-” “No, seriously Sam, I didn't mean to offend you-” "Well, you did-" But Sam's words were muffled by Dean's lips on his own.

 

“Stop laughing Dean! And let me go already!" Sam demanded, pushing his brother away, separating their lips. "Nop." replied the older man pressing his lips together. “Fine.” Said Sam, and used his hands to try and push his brother away. “Sam stop-” “Get your hands off me Dean-” “Sam! Stop this right now!” commanded Dean, grabbing Sam’s injured wrist with his own hand, stopping him from crushing it on the headboard. 

 

“Dean!” “Sammy stop, stop it, you are going to hurt your hand.” Sam hissed as he felt hard knuckles surrounding his wrist, but let the older man place their hands in between them. “I didn’t laugh deliberately Sam.” “Yeah right-” “Why would you be ashamed of me Sam? I like to tease you, that’s true, but… You should never fell embarrassed around me.” Muttered the older man, his thumb running smoothing circles on Sam’s hurt wrist. “But-” “But what? It’s you and me and we are having a good time after months of endless hunting. What’s wrong with this?” Asked Dean, his voice serious.

 

“Yeah, when you say it like that, it sounds as if there’s nothing wrong. But we were jerking off face to face Dean and you…” “And I what?” “You shouldn’t… I mean I shouldn’t act like that, so stupidly-” “Sam, just answer me one question. Did you like what we just did?” “Yes, I did-” “Then that’s all there is. That’s why I did it Sam, I did it for you, for us. It’s not a bad thing to do hot stuff with the one you are together.” “Dean… You’re my brother as well. And…” “And what? Sammy, I’m the one who taught you how to jerk off, long before either of us had admitted his feelings for the other.” Dean stated, voice calm and not angry.

 

“It’s not right Dean, it’s way too… Provocative. Even for us, I mean-” “It’s way too what?” “Dean, what I meant to say is-” “Last time I checked, the house it was empty. We are alone, after almost one whole month, and we have a few free days after months of hunting, either with dad or with others. So, tell me, who is it, that will see us?” Dean asked, sitting upright on the bed, his back resting on the headboard. 

 

Sam huffed, turning his face away in embarrassment. Dean let out a long sigh, tearing his gaze from his brother and fixing it on the wall. “Seriously Sam, if you want me to understand, you’ll have to tell me what you’re thinking.” Dean declared, voice low. “What we do… Dean, sometimes I can’t… I can’t stop myself from thinking it’s… That it is… Wrong.” Sam uttered, turning his back on his brother, body curling into a ball.

 

For a few torturous minutes, the older man remained silent, and Sam thought that he had really screwed things up. And damn, he didn’t want this to end, for he loved his brother too much. “Dean, I’m sorry-” “Do you want us to finish it?” Questioned the older man, voice covering Sam’s trembling one. “W- What?” “You heard me. Do you want us to finish it, right here, right now? Is that what you want?” Dean repeated, in a weird tone of voice.

 

Sam froze, dead-in-his tracks, his heart skipping a beat, or, two, or maybe more… He didn’t know. He didn’t dare to speak, not trusting his voice. He wanted to clench on Dean and never let him go, but he was feeling as though a mountain was separating them.

 

“If you think what we have, what we do is wrong, if you are… ashamed of it, then you should finish it. Do you want that?” Dean asked again, as he met Sam's eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I am checking next chapter now so it will be uploaded shortly!!! I hope you enjoyed it!!!! Please leave a comment if you want!!


	12. What is wrong and what is right....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have a necessary conversation, regarding their relationship as a whole...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is Chapter 12!! I hope you will enjoy it! I know you may think its not relative with the rest of the story, but I think that two people in that age should have second thoughts about their actions...

Sam could have sworn Dean was wearing some kind of mask at that moment. Because this couldn’t be his, Dean, no, this was a perfect hunter, staring back at him. A perfect hunter, who had an emotionless face, and eyes which were looking at Sam with a distant, hard way. No, this wasn’t Dean… It couldn’t be him… ‘No, no no, no…’ Sam thought, but he felt as though all of his body was paralyzed… 

 

“No!!” Sam heard the word coming from somewhere in the room and it took him a few seconds to understand he was the one who had said it. He had never heard himself using this kind of tone. In fact, he didn’t know was processing such a hurt tone. A mix of anguish, anger, fear, guilt, and determination was his voice, and Dean felt a shiver running down his spine at the echo of this refusal.

 

“No, no this is not what I wanted to say, no Dean, no I meant-” “Hey! Calm down right now.” “No, I-” “Calm down and breathe. Come on now, Sam breathe.” Dean repeated, with a tone which the younger man had heard before by his brother, as well other kids who had younger siblings. It seemed as though many of them could use this tone… Sam’s eyes filled with tears, as the older man, once gain pinned him on the mattress, hovering above him.

 

Sam stared at his brother desperately, with eyes which indicated, only he could make him calm down, only he, could give him the air necessary to breathe in. As though he was the only one, who held each and every solution, as though he was everything that mattered right then. But then again, when wasn’t he the most important thing that mattered? 

 

The very next second though, the younger man felt trapped and wanted to just push his brother aside and run. But he couldn’t do that, for Dean’s hold was strong and his voice steady, coaxing him into evening his breathing. Sam eventually did, and only then did Dean released him from his hold.

 

“Dean-” “Can you breathe alright?” asked the green eyed man. “Yeah, I’m… better.” “Good… That’s good.” Whispered Dean, fear filling his voice, his mask on his face disappearing, as fast as it had appeared “I didn’t want’-” “Sam, do you feel like this every time we do something? Do you feel like you’re doing something bad and that you have to… ‘ask for forgiveness’, like you said yesterday?” “I… I don’t know.” Sam replied honestly. 

 

“Every time we kiss, or the rare times we wake up together, like this morning… Or, two nights ago when you were jerking me off at the garage. Did you feel about those stuff?” “No, no I didn’t… I didn’t, feel bad, for sure.” “That’s a start, then,” stated the older man, locking his eyes with Sam’s who had got off the bed and had put on his boxer. “But you’ve been thinking about it, about the fact that what we are doing, is wrong for the whole year we've been together?” Dean asked and when he received no answer, he sighed and tilted his head to the side.

 

“What about yesterday night?” Sam swallowed thickly, hands trembling. “I loved what we did, what you did, I thought I would go nuts with lust and pleasure and yeah, this is so chick-flick that I’ll wash the car forever.” Sam muttered, blushing. “Screw chick-flicks, this is important Sam. This is not… normal. You can’t be with someone, anyone, and feel so bad about it.” Dean rasped.

 

“Now you’ve said it. ‘Normal…’ That’s the reason why I feel like we’re… Doing stuff against every sense of ‘normal’ there is. And you are not a random guy Dean, you’re… you. You’re my brother.” Sam said, voice fainting. “Whose ‘normal rules’ Whose moral codes, whose sense of justice, you mind that we are breaking?” Questioned Dean, voice surprisingly calm. Sam turned around, fixing his eyes on his brother, who was still lying on the bed, his back resting on the headboard.

 

“What? What do you mean?” “Do you mind that we don’t fit in, in what other people call normal? I mean, I know you do mind it, in general, but what about us?” “No, why would I care about every person out there and what they think of me, of us?” replied Sam.

 

“Alright, that’s another point then.” Declared the older man, unable to stop his bottom lip, from slightly quivering. “And I am asking you again, what did you feel yesterday?” “When… when you let me, you know, do that, I felt-” “When I let you do what? Say it.” “You know what Dean, and that’s what pissed me off earlier as well, the fact that you want me to say all this stuff.” Sam rasped.

 

“You don’t want to say them, ‘cause you feel embarrassed, yeah, that I understand, well, at least, I’m trying.” “I shouldn’t be feeling like that Dean! That’s the point! Not with you, not around you!” “Sam, wait, don’t go back to the start. You said you don’t want to end this. So don’t say that you ‘shouldn’t feel this way’. Alright? So, back to the point. What about yesterday?” Dean asked yet again.

 

“Yesterday, it was so fucking awesome, so… overwhelming that at some point I thought it must be wrong. That… It is too much, all the lust, the pleasure, the need, the lo-” But the younger man stopped himself, turning his back on Dean. “Why do you stop? Is ‘love’ an inappropriate word as well?” “Dean… It’s not normal, it can’t be normal…” Sam uttered. “And I am not referring, to what other people see as normal, or as moral.” 

 

“So what you do mind, is not what other people have to say about us, as you said, or, not even, what they define as ‘normal’. Which leaves one more player in the game.” Said Dean, crossing his hands. “Dean… I… You’ve never thought about it? About the fact that, in the eyes of God, we are doing…” “What, what is it that we do, that God doesn’t allow?” Dean asked, voice low, as he slowly got off the bed as well, heading towards Sam with slow, small steps.

 

“Dean, what we’re doing is called incest.” Sam answered, voice low. “Can you get pregnant, or something like that?” “Dean, this is not-” “Can you, or not?” “No.” Sam shot back, anger building up, in his voice. “So, it’s not that bad. We could be two random guys, who meet each other and end up together.” “But, we’re not gay either.” Sam said, voice desperate. 

 

Dean took two more steps, reaching Sam. “That’s true, you may be awesome, but dude, you don’t have boobs!” said Dean, chuckling. “Dean-” “Alright, alright, well, that means, we feel stuff. Good stuff, beyond lust and need. And, yeah, maybe we shouldn’t feel those either. Maybe you’re right. But we do Sam, we do feel all those emotions.” He continued, his fingertips, brushing Sam’s chest. 

 

Sam leaned to the touch almost automatically, eyes fluttering close.“ It took me two years to get over the fact we’re brothers.” At the sound of those words, hazel eyes snapped open and a shiver run down his spine, making Dean move even closer. “But not because I was afraid of God’s judgment. But because I didn’t want to take this slice of ‘normal’ you had managed to keep, away from you.” “Dean-” “But, after all, it took me about five seconds to decide.” Dean said, boxing Sam on the wall.

 

“When we were on that hunt, with the werewolves, the one Bobby accompanied us. One of them was heading towards you and you didn’t have a gun-” “And the best thing you could think of was getting in the middle.” Sam cut off. “Sam, you could have died.” Muttered the older man. The younger man opened his mouth only to close again. He tried to find something, anything to answer back, but found nothing. It was better for the things he remembered and his brother ignored to stay hidden. Thus, he let out a sigh and let Dean talk.

 

“So, when we came here, after killing the werewolves I talked to you. And thought, to hell with it. And since you didn’t run off, away from me, I couldn’t care about anyone and anything else. Not even about God. Should we die and meet Him and get punished then… So be it.” Dean said, his forehead touching Sam’s. “And what about… what about mom? What would she think of us, of me?” Sam rasped, voice breaking. 

 

Sam knew this was too much and that Dean was rarely referring to their mother, for it hurt him too much. Thus, Sam had learned the hard way not to bring that topic up. But now he couldn’t stop himself from asking. His hazel eyes saw Dean’s jaw twitching, his breath becoming shallow, and his hands sweating. The older man took in a calming breath, swallowed hard and spoke again. 

 

“Sam… you said it yourself, to dad, that we live the way we do because mom is not alive.” “But…” “But I think that she wouldn’t be mad. She was a good person Sam, such a good person, and she loved us, she loved you. So I think… she wouldn’t stop loving us, she wouldn’t turn away from us.” Dean whispered choosing his words carefully. His eyes fluttered close and Sam was sure, that behind Dean’s long lushes, Mary was smiling. 

 

Sam began to speak, only to be stopped by tender fingers brushing over his soft lips. “Shh, Sammy, no more talking, at least not right now.” Dean said as he reopened his eyes. Sam let out a soft sigh and felt Dean's fingers tremble ever so slightly, at the feeling of hot breath on them. The older man guided them to the bed yet again, laying them on their sides. “I understand that you think of what we have and whether it is good or bad, and believe me, I used to think about it, as well.” Dean muttered eyes fixed on Sam’s.

 

“If you want us to… break up-” “Dean-” “Shh, no listen to me Sam, listen to me. If you feel this is too much, or I don’t know what, we’ll talk about this alright?” “I don’t want to ‘break up', or anything, but alright…” Answered Sam, sighing, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Silence fell in the room, a long, desired silence.

 

“Thanks Dean, for everything.” Muttered the younger man, blushing yet again. “What are you thanking me for Sam?” “For starters, for your present yesterday night.” “Sam you shouldn’t be the one to thank me, I should be thanking you.” “Yeah, right, ‘cause I did all the hard work, or all the hot stuff.” “Do you remember what was the first thing dad taught us about being good hunters?” Dean questioned, voice warm and gentle.

 

“That, a good hunter must have keen, weary eyes and free hands, hands ready to get a hold of any kind of gun and fire with it.” Sam stated, his voice quiet and calm. “But what does this hve to do with anything we did yesterday?” “It has a lot to do with all we did yesterday Sammy. Last night you… you gave them both up, for me.” “Not just for you-” “You trusted me, to tie you on the bed and blindfold you. I think that’s more than enough that you’ve given me.” Dean replied, a true smile painted over his face. The younger man swallowed hard, lowering his eyes. 

 

“I’ve given you nothing Dean, nothing in comparison to all the things you have done for me.” “Sam…” Dean murmured, sighing. “We talked about this when I found you on that fucking road. So don’t start the same crap, alright?” Sam blew out a long breath and shivered slightly at the feeling of callused hands cupping his face. “Look at me Sam. Why are you repeating the same thing over and over?”

 

Sam though, didn’t want to answer that and so, he changed the subject. “We should… Um, take a shower, don’t you think? We are sticky as hell.” He muttered, and to his surprise, Dean nodded in agreement.

 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” He announced, getting himself up. “Besides, we need to wash the sheets as well.” he continued, casting a quick glance at rest of the room. Their clothes were lying all over the floor, coloring the old wood.

 

 

“Come on now Sammy, get up.” Said the other man offering his hand to his brother. “I can walk on my own, thank you.” snapped the other man, pushing himself upwards as well. His legs trembled yet again, and before he could blink, he felt strong hands around his waist. “Dean-” “Alright, alright, fine, I won’t help you Sam, but can I at least walk behind you, or this bad as well?” Sam sighed and nodded, knowing that his brother was right, he did indeed, need help.

 

 

They made itto the bathroom in silence, Dean’s hands always hovering over Sam’s waist, ready to catch him. The old tub was small, but the boys could not complain. It was cleaner than almost all the tubs they had seen the last four months. Dean got in first, offering his hand to his brother, who took it without further complaint. 

 

The fact that he did get in the tub, however, didn’t mean he was feeling comfortable. He hated this tub, more than anything, and he had a bad feeling things wouldn’t turn out good. And the worst part, was that Dean was standing next to him, and knew nothing of what had taken place there one year and three months ago…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!!! Next chapters will be posted 21 of July!! I promise you John returns soon!!


	13. The shadows of the past...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean take a shower and the story of how they ended up admiting their feelings for one another unfolds... A story, filled with darkness, blood, tears and love. A story which makes Dean understand why Sam is so afraid that his brother will die to protect him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So, i am back on my feet again (men i can eat ice cream! :-) ) I have to admit that last chapter was short and not good, (sory... :-( )but please, forgive me! Here is chapter 13! Hope you will all enjoy it!  
> Thank you all, as always, for all your support! Especialy Issraa for his/her continued suport!!

The hot water was more than needed for them both, and Sam let his eyes flutter close at the sensation of it running down his body. “Dean what-” “Shh relax Sam, relax, relax and enjoy it.” “Dean, I can wash my own hair.” Sam muttered without opening his eyes. “I know that Sam.” Replied the green eyed hunter as his knuckles run through brown locks tenderly spreading the shampoo all over Sam’s head. 

 

“Does this feel bad? I mean, does this feel like we’re doing something bad?” Dean asked, voice low. “Dean… No, no it doesn’t.” Answered the younger man. “You know, where you were little, and I would get you in the tub, you used to play with the water, making me a mess. And then you used to smile and say ‘Come in D’n’” The green eyed hunter muttered, chuckling. “Really?” “Yeah, really, but I thought of it as a game most of the times as well.” Dean replied.

 

The older man moved them a little bit, and so Sam’s chest was touching the old tiles while Dean’s chest was pressed on Sam’s back. “You know… I love this place.” Muttered the green eyed man, his hot breath making the drops of water on Sam’s torso shine like small diamonds. “The house? Yeah… me too.” “No, I mean this specific place, the bathroom. Because this is where we, kissed for the first time, one year and three months ago.” Sam swallowed hard to find his voice. “What a cliché… Dude, you really love chick-flick moments.” 

 

The younger man felt Dean’s lips touching his upper back and then felt them turning into a smile. “Yeah, it is, and yeah, I do, love them, but only when they are moments spent with you. And I also love this place.” Hummed the older man and Sam could not stop himself from blushing slightly.

 

“I had you boxed up, between the wall and my own body, like now, only back then, we were wearing clothes …” he continued, washing the shampoo away from Sam’s hair. After the younger man felt that there was no more shampoo left, he turned around and fixed his eyes on his brother’s. Dean then, leaned forwards, kissing Sam softly, as though he could break.

 

“And I kissed you… because you had freaked out for some reason I still don’t understand. And when I finally got you to calm down, something which took a lot of time, you kissed me as well.” He said, acting as though Sam didn’t know what had taken place. “Yeah, but if we were to find out who was the one who always made the first move, it would be you.” Sam whispered smiling. “Yeah, that’s true. I kissed you first, I coaxed you into having sex and the like-” “‘We will make love’, was what you had told me that night.” Sam said, voice low. 

 

“I guess after being hurt by a freaking werewolf, I thought that the time had come to say what I needed to say. And since we had come here right after that hunt… It seemed like a good place.” Said the green eyed man, lips brushing over Sam’s. “I can see, however, that you remember what happened as well.” He continued, chuckling. Sam sighed, body shivering slightly. 

 

“I do Dean, how could I not? And because I do remember…” But Sam could not utter another word, for Dean bend his knees slightly, so that he could kiss Sam’s neck. Sam tilted his head upwards, giving his brother more space, but his mind was haunted by images of what had taken place in that tub, images which were flashing before his eyes so vividly, as though they were taking place right that second.

 

Sam tore his eyes from the wall, blinking, and fixed them on his feet, taking a step to the side. That, however, proved to be a bad idea. Because what Sam saw filling the tub was not water, but blood, and the worst part was, that it was not his own blood, but Dean’s, who was standing before him.

 

“Sam?” The younger man heard his brother call his name and saw his lips moving as he did so, but this wasn’t his Dean. This was the Dean from one year and three months ago, who was bleeding from his neck, his chest… Whose lips were dyed red from his own blood, as well as his shirt and jeans. And it was all Sam’s fault. All of it.

 

Sam drew in a sharp breath, shutting his eyes. “Sam, what’s wrong?” He heard his brother ask, but couldn’t bring himself to look at him, thus he just tilted his head from side to side. “Why did you close your eyes all of a sudden, as though you saw a ghost?” “It’s… It’s nothing, it’s just shampoo, it’s nothing, it’s nothing…” Sam repeated over and over, more to himself, rather than Dean. 

 

 

Sam’s body shuddered and his knees were threatening to betray him, right where he stood, thus, the older man moved closer, guiding Sam’s body to lean back on the tiles. “Sammy, open your eyes, come on.” Dean pleaded, cupping Sam’s wet face with his hands. “Sam, come on, look at me, baby look at me, tell me what’s wrong, or else I won’t be able to help you fix it.” He continued, voice softening, for he could now understand, that Sam was fighting his own memories.

 

The younger man reluctantly obeyed, opening his eyes, blinking several times. And this time, the real Dean was there, safe and sound, his heart beating steadily. Sam put his long arms around Dean’s neck, bringing him closer, clenching on him. “Sammy?” Questioned the other man, his voice, soft but weary. “Sam, what is it, baby boy? Are you cold?” Rasped Dean, despite feeling the hot water running down his body. Sam couldn’t trust himself to speak, however, and so he buried his head between Dean’s neck and shoulder, hiding it from the older hunter. Because if he didn’t do that, he would end up spilling what had really taken place there. 

 

“Sam… Baby, you’re shaking…” whispered Dean, cupping the back of Sam’s head with his hand, running his fingers through wet brown hair, recognizing the way Sam’s breathing was becoming shallower with every gasp, the way his body was shaking, the way his heart was beating erratically. Signs which indicated, that his brother was unsuccessfully, trying to fight back a sudden wave of panic, which was threatening to take over him. Panic, which was caused by fear. Pure, shameless, fear. That much, Dean knew for sure. What he didn’t know, was what was his brother so afraid of. 

 

 

“Sam, tell me what is it, that you’re so afraid of, come on, tell me why, you’re shaking like that.” “I… I hate this bathroom.” At the sound of those words Dean’s face frowned and his right hand twitched. Sam freed himself from Dean’s embrace and took three slow, unsteady steps, until he reached the other end of the small tub. And Dean knew that when Sam moved like that, he wanted to tell him something important.

 

 

“I hate it, because this is where you said you loved me more than anything and more than a brother.” “Wait, what?” Dean asked and felt as though the earth was shaking under his feet. “This wasn’t where I said that, no, I’ve never told you such a thing, at least not out loud! I’ve dreamed of saying this stuff… Wait, you hate this room because… You don’t want us to be together and we are?” Sam huffed and waved his hand towards his brother, silently shushing him. “ No, no you don’t understand…” Sam said, voice breaking. 

 

 

“What, that you hate the place, which is the place I kissed you for the first time? Or, the place in which I ‘confessed’, according to what you just said, that I loved you more than anything? I don’t think I am that stupid so as to misunderstand that Sam! ” Dean said, anguish clear in his voice. “You said it right here in this tub.” Sam rasped, voice covering Dean’s, now, trebling one. 

 

“So… That’s why you hate the tub… Well, I guess you really are ashamed of us, and you really do think that what we have is wrong.” Dean whispered, voice cracking. ‘Great, great now he thinks I don’t want us to be together!’ Sam thought to himself, cursing silently, for his stupidity. “Then, why the hell, did you pretend-” “Screw it…” Muttered the younger man taking in, a deep breath. “What did you say?” Dean asked, his anguish transforming into rage.

 

“I said… That… That I hate this bathroom because you said those words while lying half dead in this freaking tub, bathing in your own blood, screaming in pain. Back then, after that hunt, with the werewolves.” Sam uttered, swallowing a sob. “What are you talking about Sam? It wasn’t so bad, we fought the werewolves and one of them attacked me-” “It attacked me Dean, and you got in the middle. You mentioned it earlier as well. And then, it all happened way too fast…” Sam had to clean his throat, so that he would be able to keep on talking.

 

“This creep- a male- managed to make you drop your gun and since you had put your body as a shield, to cover me, you had no time to react. He… It… It almost skinned you alive with its teeth and nails. All the front part of your body, it almost ripped it to shreds, from your neck, to your stomach.” Sam’s voice fainted, as his broad shoulders trembled.

 

“Bobby and dad brought you here and lay you in the tub. But the rest of the werewolves had followed us, and so, dad went out to finish them off, while Bobby literary ran, to go get a doctor. And so…” But the younger man could not continue, for he felt his chest tightening dangerously. “Sam… I didn’t… I don’t remember any of it. I mean I do remember shielding you, but…” Dean whispered, voice trembling. But the younger man couldn’t bring himself to stop now.

 

“Thus, we were left here alone and somewhere, in between your screams and the blood, which had dyed your shirt and my hands… You whispered that you love me and that you love me in so many ways. Ways that are not right, but you wanted me to know…” At the sound of Sam’s broken words, fainted images, passed before blurred green eyes, and Dean could only sit back and listen, thankful for the hot water which was hiding his tears.

 

“I answered that, you should stop acting like a freaking guy who got out, from a romantic movie, like the guy who saves the lady and then dies…” Sam, muttered. “But then, then, when I saw how pale you were, how much blood was in the tub… I answered that I loved you as well, and I tried to do something, anything, to stop the bleeding, but…But I couldn’t Dean, I couldn’t…” the younger man’s voice fainted.

 

 

“Sam, Sammy, it’s alright, baby boy, it’s alright, I-” “At first I thought that I couldn’t bear the sound of your screams. They were tearing me apart, but when they stopped, when you actually fainted, when for a few seconds, all I could hear was the noise of the werewolves, dying outside I… I thought you were dead Dean…” “Shh…no, no no no, calm down Sam, come on now…” Dean whispered, pulling the younger man in his embrace.

 

“When the doctor came inside, he tried to kick me out of the bathroom, but I…”But Sam’s fragile voice trailed off yet again. “You what, Sammy? Come on baby, speak to me, what, what did you do?” “I pointed a gun at him and threatened him, that he would either let me stay here with you, or I would blow his head off…Dean, I pointed a gun, your gun, which dad had left here, in case any of those freaks managed to get inside, right to his head, demanding he would let me stay here.” Sam muttered.

 

 

“To my surprise, the man was more than familiar with such threats, for he was helping hunters, and he answered calmly, that I should lower the gun and that he would let me stay here with you, if I promised to be quiet and not throw up.” The younger man continued, body shaking. “And what, you stayed here while he-” “Yeah, I stayed, how could I leave Dean?” Sam asked, desperation filling his voice. 

 

 

“He cleaned the wounds, burned them, stitched you up, and said, that despite the bleeding, the wounds were not so deep. But you needed to rest and sleep to reproduce the lost blood.” Sam stated, voice calmer than before. But the older man, could tell that his brother was leaving the more disturbing parts of what the doctor had done out of his narration. “So, that’s why, when we came back here after you could stand on your feet again, I…” “You freaked out, you got a panic attack… Because all you could see was the tub filled with my blood.” Dean muttered, pulling Sam closer to his own body than before. 

 

“Yeah, and then you kissed me, to calm me down and later that day, when we were inside Bobby’s cabin, you opened up about your… feelings.” Sam uttered, shuddering yet again, making Dean tighten his hold around his shoulders. “When you first said you… that you loved me, here in the bathroom, I thought you were hallucinating. I couldn’t stop thinking that, the one you were seeing, wasn’t me.” Sam whispered. “And that explains why it took you so long to understand that I really meant it.” Dean said sighing.

 

The green eyed hunter turned Sam around, the younger man’s back, now touching the wall, his wet hazel eyes on Dean’s. “Sammy-” “Do you understand now, why I say ‘the same thing over and over’ as you said? Why I run off, when dad said you will end up dead because of me?” Sam said, voice raising, filled with fear and guilt. “Because you had already almost died!” Sam yelled, body shaking violently. “Shh, Calm down baby, calm down… Shh, It’s alright now… Calm down Sammy, breathe, breathe for me, come on…” Dean pleaded, towering over Sam’s, dangerously trembling, frame.

 

“Dean I…” “Shh… No, don’t talk and listen to me Sam.” “No, you don’t understand, you were dying, you were literary slipping away, and I was-” “Look at me. Lock your eyes with mine. Come on, look at me baby.” Dean said, voice soft. And Sam, who was left at the mercy of his memories, could do nothing more, but obey. Wet, hazel eyes, met sad green ones and Dean was sure that the Dean his brother was seeing was the one from that day, the one covered in blood, the one with the ashen- cold face, with the clouded eyes. 

 

“Don’t look away Sammy.” The older man coaxed, placing the younger man’s palm on the center of his own chest. “You hear that?” “Dean I don’t-” “That’s my heart, beating under your fingers. So, you can touch me. You can see me. And you can also hear me, smell me…You can feel me, standing right here. That’s it baby, I want you to let yourself feel… feel me.” The green eyed man continued, letting his tender hands travel down the length of his brother’s back. 

 

 

Dean knew Sam could still ‘feel him’, for his thighs were still burning and trembling, from what they had done yesterday night. But knew that Sam needed this, needed him to speak, to remind him. And Dean would be damned if he didn’t try his best to help his brother. “Dean…” Sam moaned, voice trembling. Was it trembling with need and anticipation, or with fear and anguish, the older man didn’t know.

 

“I want you to know… ” Dean whispered, repeating the exact same words he had told his brother when he was lying in the tub covered in blood, words which were now coming back to him, echoing in his mind, loud and clear. “That I’ve loved you and that I will love you more than anything, and anyone… More than, just my brother, so, so much more, than just a brother. In so many ways, wrong ways, but still… I will always love you Sam.” “Dean why are you-” But the older man wouldn’t let him interject. 

 

 

“Do you want me to kiss you Sammy?” “What… why are you asking?” “Because I didn’t ask back then. I just pinned you on the tiles and kissed you. And it wasn’t right.” “You kidding me?” “Answer me Sammy. You said what we have is not normal, and that’s true, so I’m asking you, like ‘normal people’ do. Do you want me to kiss you?” “Yeah…” Thus, Dean leaned forwards, covering the few millimeters, which were keeping them apart, uniting their lips in a slow, ever so gentle, and soft kiss. 

 

 

A kiss sweet and tender, filled with a tremendous amount of love. And so it was, written and done, in a seemingly endless moment. In a moment, which could not go by and be erased by the next one, because it was one of those rare moments, that mark, those who lived it. And let the tide rise and fall time, and time again, and witness Men rising and falling, along with it. Let the sun and the moon replace each other a million times over. It still wouldn't be enough, to erase this moment.

 

And it was in this moment, in which Sam understood what Dean had been trying to do. He was trying to make him love the bathroom, because he loved it so very much. No, not just that. He was trying to make him forget, forget that such meaningful, and true words had been spoken while he was lying in the tub, half dead. That was the reason why, he had repeated them, and that was why, he had asked Sam for permission to kiss him.

 

“That’s what I want you to remember. That I told you all those chick-flick stuff for the first time today, not covered in blood or dying, but while I held you in my arms, and while I was all you could see, hear, touch, taste, smell… All you could feel.” Dean whispered, confirming Sam’s thoughts. The younger man could only stare at Dean, unable to stop the tears running down his face, mixing with the hot water. 

 

Sam wanted to say every single thing he was thinking at the same time, he wanted to say everything, to make Dean understand the amount of love and utter devotion he was feeling right then. But as always, he could not find the right words. ‘Love’, ‘Thankfulness’, ‘Devotion’, ‘Obligation’, ‘Admiration’… No, those were insignificant little constructions, made by simple letters, put one next to the other. As much as it might be, the ‘power’ some words held, some others, which should express a vast depth of emotion, were completely powerless. 

 

Thus, Sam did the only thing he could to show his gratitude. He, once again put his arms around Dean’s torso, pulling him ever so close, crushing their lips together. The older man did the same, he towered over Sam’s trembling shoulders, pulling him away from the tiles and towards the center of the tub. 

 

 

And they kissed, under the hot water, holding each other for dear life, spinning around, moving from one end of the tub to the other, with small steps, which resembled the steps of a dance, a sweet, slow, dance. Their tongues were not battling for dominance as they did earlier, but were dancing as well, moving upwards and downwards, back and forth, around one another…

 

 

And when the kiss broke, Dean let Sam touch him, understand that he was alive, standing right there, next to him. And somewhere in between tender, soft touches and soap flavored kisses, somewhere in between salty tears and sweet hot water, in between Dean’s humming voice, which was shushing Sam, calming him down and Sam’s broken pleas and muffled apologies, existed the rest of the world. One of the phones Bobby had, which was ringing for quite some time, the neighbor, who was arguing with his wife, the ambulance, which was disturbing midday’s calm with its sirens, even an airplane, which was wondering, up above the small houses of Sioux Falls…

 

Or maybe not. Maybe, the world began and ended in that room, began and ended with Sam and Dean. Yeah… That was the case for sure… And whether it was right, or wrong, is left to everyone else to decide and judge. Because, Sam didn’t care anymore, no, no, now he was sure, he was doing the right thing. For when you are doomed, to be seduced to your heart’s desires, there is no point in fighting it. The least you can do, is give in, and enjoy it… 

 

 

“Dean…” Sam uttered, shaking yet again, but this time, the older man wasn’t sure of the reason why. It could be, because he was still afraid, or, because he was cold, for the water had turned colder. “What is it Sam?” Asked the other man, hands tightening around Sam’s lean waist yet again. 

 

“If there is one right thing I do in this world… Then this is it.” Dean’s mouth fell open and the older man took a second to process what he was hearing. He then swallowed hard, laying a kiss on Sam’s forehead. “Good, that’s good, that’s good…” he muttered, having nothing else to say. No, that was a lie, he had a lot of things to say. But he knew he didn’t have to. He was showing all those things to Sam, by the way he was holding him close, by the way he was running his fingers through his wet hair, by the way he was brushing his lips on his forehead repeatedly, whispering calming words and reassurances to his ear… 

 

Soon, however, the water betrayed them, as it turned cold, way cold, ruining the fairytale- like moments. “I think we fooled around long enough…” Sam said smiling. “Yeah, we should get out.” Dean agreed, grabbing the towels from the sink, which was right next to the tub, covering Sam with the first one. He got out of the tub, helped his brother out as well and got ready to head into their room, to bring them some clothes.

 

“Dean I am…” “‘Sorry’… Why Sammy? You have every right to feel… Well, uncomfortable in here, with everything that happened. I can understand that. What I don’t understand, is why you didn’t say anything sooner.” “Because dad said that, since you didn’t remember what had happened, I shouldn’t tell you, since it was too traumatic. To be honest for once, I agreed with him.” Sam said, voice low. “Screw traumatic Sam, I had the right to know what had happened to me… To you.” Replied the older man calmly, and left the room to go get their duflles. 

 

Once they were dry and dressed, the boys put the sheets in the washing machine and headed downstairs. “I’ll go see what else I can fix from the car.” Stated Dean, but San grabbed his wrist stopping him. “It was traumatic Dean… And…” “And you thought I was dead, so it was as traumatic for you as it was for me. And you faced it alone all this time.” Dean whispered, turning his gaze back on Sam. The young man sighed in defeat, knowing he couldn’t change Dean’s mind.

 

“Dean…” “Anyway… now I know, so there is no point in further dragging this conversation. But I want you to know… I meant everything I said upstairs as well as, in the bathroom.” “Thank you.” Sam uttered, finding nothing else to say. “I’ll make something for lunch; we haven’t eaten anything, since the first night we came here.” Said Sam, heading to the kitchen, while Dean grabbed his cell phone and headed towards the small cabin…

 

“Hey Sam…” he said as he reached the front door, his back at the younger man. “Yeah? You want something special for lunch? I was planning on making spaghetti.” Said Sam. “Spaghetti sounds good.” Answered the green eyed man, but Sam could tell, there was more to it, than just what kind of food his brother wanted. “Dean?” “Spaghetti sounds great.” Dean repeated, pushing aside any sign of hesitation. Whatever it was, that he wanted to say, Sam would have to wait to hear it…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end of chapter 13! And before you kill me, or you press the 'unsubscribe' button, let me say, that John will be back in chapter 14 and that he will be furious... And then, Sam will have to prove how far he can go, and what he can sacrifice, to be sure Dean has a family and that he is... well, happy...
> 
>  
> 
> I know that i shouldn't spend so many chapters on what Sam and Dean do, but in my opinion, if some one wants to understand the pain and the hurt one person feels when he/she loses the one he/she loves, then, you'll have to know what this person meant for them first... 
> 
> Anyway, I think I've said enough, I just hope you're not bored, of how the story goes. Next chapter will be uploaded in the next two days!


	14. One Fateful Lie...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John does something he has never done before. He lies to his son, in order to finally find out the truth...A fateful lie, which will reveal an even more fateful truth....  
> Special Guest: Pastor Jim (You don't have to know who he is, he has made a 5-minute appearance in one episode of the 1st season, I just like the actor...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, here is chapter 14! Thank you for all your support, I hope you're enjoying the story! Oh, and since I am on vacation (finally!) I wish you all a great, great summer! (or winter!) Issraa thank you yet again for all your support!!

Meanwhile, a few states over and twelve hours ago (When our boys were drifting off, to sleep after making love almost all night…)

“Well… I Guess she’s dead.” Bobby stated, eyes flicking between John, the witch’s corpse and a third man, who was standing next to them. “Great, now we have come here for nothing.” Shot John, anger in his voice. “Oh, but, forgive me your Highness, I didn’t know to wait for this bitch- sorry, I meant witch- to kill me, so that you could have come here and find something to hunt!” The other man rasped, voice raising, filled with irony. 

 

“Oh, please, cut the theatrics Jim.” “Hey, watch your tongue, I am a man of the church.” Said Jim, chuckling. “She had already killed two other hunters, one of which I knew, his name was Bill.” “You took care of them?” Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow. “Bill, yeah, I did burn his body, for the other one, I don’t know who cremated him, but, from what I hear, someone did. She had also killed thirteen young children… In, a rather disturbing way.” Jim said, jaw twitching at the thought of young children laying dead.

 

“Why thirteen?” questioned Bobby. “It is said, that every three years she would kidnap and kill thirteen children and then use their blood to do a spell and see stuff.” “What’s that suppose to mean?” “I think that she was able to perform a ritual, which could show her the past and the future for some people. I don’t know how those people were chosen, or, if they were chosen at all, for they could just be random people.” “Has anyone, ever found, any of those… prophecies?” Asked John, speaking for the first time after a while.

 

“No, not as far as I know. But I think she used to destroy them after she read them. That’s the only possible explanation.” Jim rasped, voice impatient. “Or, all this, could just be a lie and there were never any prophecies to begin with. Because if the witch performed the ritual and wrote a prophesy after killing thirteen children, then, where is the last one?” John said, in anger. “I don’t know John, she could have already burned it.” Snapped Jim, voice equally angry. 

 

 

“Alright then, lets have some fun and burn this place down. And you two, chill out.” Bobby said, stepping in, yet again. “Alright, we burn it and ,then, we will head back to Sioux Falls.” John stated, as he turned around and headed towards the door of the cabin. “Why head back in the middle of the night? We can burn this place to the ground and then hung out with Jim for a while.” Bobby said, eyes fixed on John. His mind, however, was on the boys…

 

“Bobby, tell me something… What’s up with you lately?” John questioned, body tensing up. “John, there’s nothing wrong with what he said, I wanted to propose it as well, you can stay here for a day or two.” Jim said. “Stay out of it Jim, this has nothing to do with you.” John rasped. “Firstly, you step in, and you won’t let me bring Dean or Sam here. Then-” “You wanted to drag them out here? Are you in your right mind John? Didn’t Bobby tell you this witch was killing children?” Jim cut off. 

 

The priest loved the boys and many were the times when they had to stay in the church, while John was hunting. Jim had his suspicions, of course, about the ‘amount’ of brotherly love the boys were sharing, but he had said nothing. First of all, it was none of his business, and secondly, if they were indeed more than brothers and John was to find out, God knows what he would do.

 

“I said, stay out of it Jim.” Repeated John, his eyes burning with anger. “ As for you Bobby, why do you want us to stay here? We should get back, me and the boys, we have to move on.” “Why, so that you can drag them to yet another hunt?” Bobby snapped. “Yes, to find what killed their mother.” Came the answer, at once. “Oh great, find what killed Mary, but lose one of the boys, or even both of them, in the meantime, like you almost lost Dean one year ago, in that hunt of the werewolves!” Yelled Bobby, jaw twitching. “Yeah, I’m sure Mary wants to meet her sons in the afterlife and not let them live on!” 

 

 

“Wise words from a wise man who never had a proper family, great Bobby, great!” “You son of a-” Bobby cursed and got ready to attack the other man, but Jim got in the middle. “Hey, hey hey, stop, that’s enough, both of you! John, stop this right now!” “What happened on that hunt, was Sam’s fault! If he had been more careful and had trained more, like I’ve told him, Dean wouldn’t have to get in the middle, to save him! He shouldn’t have done it in the first place!” John rasped.

 

“He is his brother, for the love of God! Of course he would do anything to save him! Just like Sam would do everything for Dean. That is the meaning of having a brother, of having a family. And I am the one saying that, me, the one who… ‘never had a proper family.” Bobby shot back. “Oh, so, they are just brothers now? Because, from where I sit, it seems as though they are way more than just ‘brothers!’” John snarled and both Bobby and Jim froze.

 

“And you…” He continued, pointing Bobby with the back of his gun, “You know what’s going on. Don’t you Bobby? Ever since that hunt near your house one year and a few months ago, the one Dean almost died, as you stated, something has changed between them. And now that we came back to your house, I could see it, crystal clear, that you were covering them. So, what is it that you cover Bobby? Care to share it with the class?” John said, using a tone which a parent uses, when they find out their kids have stole a candy. 

 

“Listen John… I’ll go outside and deal with the rest of the stuff this freak had. Once you’re done here, and you clear your head of all these… Conspiracy theories, come and find me. I’ll be in the first road house we saw as we entered the town.” Bobby said, clenching his fingers into fists. John ignored him, but Jim stepped in yet again. “No, Bobby, we will all burn this thing together and then, I’ll rent us a room so you two can sleep for a few hours.” Said Jim and Bobby nodded his head in agreement, leaving the room. 

 

Once outside, the old man released a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “This was a close one…” he said in between his teeth and got his mobile phone out of his back pocket. He found Dean’s number and was ready to call him. The very next second though, his eyes fell on the small numbers above Dean’s number. It was 3:45 in the morning, it was late, and he would worry them for no practical reason. He could always, call them in the morning. 

 

 

His eyes stared at Dean’s name as though the letters would jump out of the small screen and would run away. Stared at them so hard, as though he could communicate with Dean telepathically. After a few seconds, however, he put the mobile phone back in his pocket. “I’ll call them in the morning.” He mumbled and started piling up all the stuff the witch had thrown in the front yard. Little did the old man, who would give his life for the Winchesters, knew, that he was making a big mistake at that moment….

 

“John… He is not wrong, you know.” Jim, who had stayed inside the cabin along with the elder Winchester, said, voice low, smooth. “Let them rest, let them at least, spent some time together. As for what you said…” Here the priest paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I think it’s just your imagination John, your imagination and nothing more.” Continued Jim, knowing, that what he was saying, was a lie. “Right…” John muttered and started to search the cabin for various useful objects. 

 

As the hour grew late, John’s suspicions grew even more. He wanted to leave there, right then, but he was stuck with Bobby and Jim for at least one more day. “There is one more room, more of a hutch actually, but there is nothing in there.” Jim stated, after a long while. “Are you sure?” John asked, voice tired. “Yeah, I’ve checked it out. So, since Bobby is done outside, we should get things done as well.” Jim responded, spilling gasoline all over the old cabin.

 

And so, as the clock in Sioux Falls was striking five, as two bodies were peacefully sleeping, curled in one another, a cabin was burning to the ground, blazing, splitting the ebony sky in half… Inside the cabin, dusty, old books were turning to ash, silver and copper talismans and amulets were melting. And somewhere in that hutch, under the old wooden floor, old, thick pieces of paper, in which prophecies about special people, prophecies the witch had written with her own blood and with the blood of the kids she had killed, started to burn as well. And one of those, thick, yellow papers wrote:

 

Sam & Dean Winchester

A bond carved deep inside their soul  
A bond expanding, beyond the one viewed by the world  
Sinful, it is said to be  
Yet, is judged by those who, its pureness can never see  
Unbreakable it stands, before the passing of Time, before God and Devil.  
Yet, by Men it will be broken, as the words of a Deal will be spoken  
But such a bond can never be truly broken  
For a love like this is meant to be, and can never, be forgotten.

 

“So… are we going to get some sleep or what?” Jim asked, as soon as the flames had been put out completely. John sighed in defeat and followed the two men towards their cars. Together, they headed to the center of the city and rented a small room, in a dirty, nameless, motel near the road. Bobby and Jim fell asleep at once, but John could not bring himself to do the same. He had a bad feeling about what he was about to find when he got back… He eventually did fall asleep however, somewhere around the time the sun was rising.

 

 

John woke up, several hours later, by a very annoying buzzing of something which lay on the nightstand, next to his bed. Something buzzing… Buzzing… “Shit, the phone…” Groaned the elder Winchester, as his hand was blindly, searching for the old mobile phone. He managed to take a hold of it, but it had stopped ringing. 

 

The elder Winchester glanced at the screen. Dean had called twice already and John couldn’t help, but wonder, if his son wanted to ask when they would be back. He got up, and put on his shoes, heading out of the small room, careful, no to wake the other two men up.

 

The sun was slowly, but steadily, heading to the west, and a sweet, gentle breeze was blowing. John glanced at his watch. It said 6:35. There was still, plenty of time until dusk. He took in a deep breath, and called Dean…

Back to Sioux Falls and the boys…

If there was one thing, Dean could do better than almost anything else, it was to fix cars. For two hours now, he was lying on the floor of Bobby’s cabin, under his car and had manage to fix and repair, almost all the broken parts. He got up and sighed in relief, a smile painted over his face. He got his phone out of his pocket and called his father. 

 

When the older Winchester didn’t pick up, however, Dean felt a weird lump in his throat. This wasn’t usual. “He must be hunting… Or, sleeping.” The green eyed man mumbled. 'Or dying...' his subconscious yelled, but Dean chose to ignore it. He took in a deep breath, he put down his tools, shot one last glance at the car and got out of the small cabin, locking the door. His keen eyes scanned the area around the house, but spotted nothing unusual, thus the green eyed man turned around and headed back to the house. 

 

Once inside, Dean’s eyes opened wide, as the smell of fresh sauce, as well as spaghetti reached his nose. “That’s my boy…” he muttered, as he glanced down at the food. He tore his eyes from it however, to read a piece of paper, stained with red drops of sauce, which was placed on the kitchen table. The note, written with Sam's calligraphic handwriting, said: ‘Upstairs, cleaning the bedroom, call me when you want to eat.’ 

 

 

Dean considered calling out to Sam, right then, but he was feeling tired all of a sudden. Thus, he kicked off his shoes and laid down, on the small couch in the living room. His eyes fluttered close within seconds, and he drifted off, into a restless sleep, a sleep haunted by nightmares. 

 

Nightmares, of him lying in the tub, blood all over him. But the worst part, was Sam, who was kneeling next to him, with eyes filled with tears and hands soaked in blood, his, blood. Trembling hands, which were trying to keep pressure on Dean's wounds, but were not fast enough.

 

“Sammy... I'm... sorry...” Dean heard himself muttering, and then saw Sam's shoulders jolting with sobs. “No, no no no no, Dean, please no, you can't do this man, not now, please...” Dean's eyes blurred with tears, but he couldn't find the strength to move his hands and touch Sam. “Sam... Sammy, I want you to know... that I love you… always loved you... So much-” But the younger man interjected.

 

 

“Shh, no, shut up, don't say such things, you're sounding like those guys from the romantic movies, so stop, stop talking, and just hang on, just hang on Dean...” Sam managed to say, more tears running down his face. But the older man couldn't follow his brother's instructions, and let his eyes flutter close. 

 

“Dean! No, no no, Dean, come on, please, please...” Dean heard Sam calling his mane yet again, and felt a hand on his shoulder... “Dean, Dean don’t do this, not for me, not because of me, Dean I’m begging you… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll do whatever you ask of me, I’ll train harder, Dean… Dean!” “It’s not your fault Sammy...” the older man thought, as everything went black. 

 

 

“Dean!” A loud voice pulled him out of his hellish nightmares and Dean bolted upright, body shaking like a leaf. “Dean, dude, wake up, come on, we have to eat.” Sam said, his hand firm, on Dean’s shoulder. “Sam…?” Dean whispered, eyes blurring. 

 

The younger Winchester nodded his head, fighting the overwhelming urge to pull his brother into a tight hug, and make him spill out what his nightmare was about. Unfortunately, though, he knew this couldn't happen, for Dean wasn't like that. But Sam could see the way Dean was looking at him, the way his body seemed to calm down at the sound of his voice. Thus, the young man, started talking about the food, and what he had put in that sauce, analyzing every step, like he was talking to a five-year-old kid. 

 

Dean’s eyes were unfocused, and his mind blank, but he followed his brother to the small table, and was thankful for the sound of his voice, his calm and gentle, honey-sweet voice, which was surrounding him, keeping the blood and darkness at bay. The boys ate two full plates of food each, in silence, but Sam’s hazel eyes were fixed on Dean all of the time. 

 

 

After the green eyed man had finished his food, he blew out a long sigh and rested his back on the chair, locking his eyes with Sam’s for the first time after a long while. “I called dad and he didn’t pick up.” He stated, voice calmer that Sam expected it would be. “Try calling him again, come on.” Sam coaxed, voice soft. Dean narrowed his eyes, understanding that his brother was thinking that, his nightmare was about their father.

 

Dean’s face frowned, but he did call John yet again, tossing the phone on the table, as soon as his father’s voicemail was all he got. “I’m sure he is fine Dean, besides, you can always try calling Bobby-” “It had nothing to do with dad.” Dean said, turning his gaze to the side. “What?” “My nightmare, which I’m guessing, was what brought you downstairs, it had nothing to do with dad. So stop thinking about ways to… ‘comfort’ me. Alright?” The older man shot back, voice edgy. 

 

“Dean, I…” Sam swallowed hard and tried to clear his voice. “So, what was it about?” he eventually asked. “About a chick with awesome boobs, are you happy now?” “That’s what you do Dean, like earlier, when we got out of the bathroom, when you wanted to say something to me. You said ‘Hey Sam…’ and then nothing more.” “No, I said that ‘spaghetti sounds great.’” “Dean…” Sam let out a long sigh as he spoke. 

 

“I am not dad Dean, you can talk to me. Especially, when whatever it is you were dreaming, makes you mutter my name as though I’m dying or something.” “I’m glad you’re finding your way in life Sammy. You’re going to be an excellent psychologist.” Dean shot back, as he got up and gathered the plates in the sink.

 

“I want to become a lawyer… So that I can get you out of prison, if you end up in it.” Sam said, as he followed his brother. Pressing his chest on Dean’s back, taking a hold of Dean’s lean waist, with his hands, Sam inhaled deeply, savoring the smell coming out of his brother. “A lawyer, huh?” Dean mumbled, leaning to the touch, but made no more comments on the matter. He let his own hands fall to his sides and close his eyes at the feeling of hot breath on the back of his neck. 

 

“It wasn’t your fault Sam.” Dean’s voice reached Sam’s ears and the younger hunter took in a sharp breath, body tensing. “What happened to me last year, it wasn’t your fault, alright?” He continued, but felt his brother leaving his side. The green eyed hunter turned around and saw Sam taking small, wobbly steps backwards. 

 

“What… What does this have to do with your nightmare?” He asked, voice low. “Sam, I mean it, I wanted to do what I did. It was me, who got in the middle in the first place, so… So I don’t want you to blame yourself, alright?” Dean said, taking a step forwards, for every step Sam would take backwards.

 

Sam’s eyes seemed clouded, flicking between Dean and his own feet. “That’s what I wanted to tell you earlier, and that was what I… dreamed about, or to be honest, I am positive it wasn’t a dream. It did happen, but you didn’t mention it earlier.” “What-” “It did happen, I’m sure. When we were on the tub, you… you were trying to stop the bleeding and you were mumbling a lot. You were blaming yourself about what happened, you even said that you would train harder, that you would do whatever I asked of you.” Dean declared, seeing the confusion on Sam’s face. 

 

“Dean…” Sam’s voice trailed off and the young man pressed his hand on his face in an attempt to hide his tears. “Sam, Sammy, don’t do this baby boy, it’s not your fault and I don’t blame you.” “Well, maybe I blame myself enough for the both of us and-” But the young man could not utter another word, for Dean’s phone rang. How the hell, was it possible, whenever they were discussing something important, that the phone would ring? That was something, Sam, could never understand.

 

“It’s dad…” His brother commented, relief, audible in his voice. “Dad? Are you alright?” “Yes, I had my hands full earlier.” Sam heard the answer from the other end of the line. “You found the witch?” Dean questioned, eyes flicking on Sam for just a second. 

 

There was a long pause, as John took at least five seconds, to answer. “Dad?” “Is Sam there with you?” At the sound of those words, Sam’s forehead frowned. “Yes, he is here, next to me.” John swallowed hard and spoke, doing something he’d never done before. “Good, keep an eye on him, for we can’t find the witch yet. It’ll probably take two to three days. You need money, or something?” John questioned.

 

 

“No, no sir, we’ll manage.” Dean answered, gazing at Sam, whose eyes were sparkling. “ You got someone to help you?” “Yeah, Jim came by, don’t worry Dean. So, I’ll have to go now, take care.” “You too dad, you too.” The middle Winchester said, as he ended the call. 

Back to where John, Bobby and Jim are, a few states away from our boys…

 

John clenched his fingers around the old mobile phone tightly, as soon as the call had ended. He let his eyes flutter close, and blew out a long breath. He had just lied to Dean, he had lied to his son, shamelessly, hoping to find… What? Hoping that, when he would return back to Sioux Falls, his sons would be… Kissing? Lying down together? Or something else?” John truly didn’t know what to wait. He also didn’t know how he would react to whatever it was, that, which he would find. But he knew one thing for sure. He would be back in Sioux Falls, with the first light of day, tomorrow.

 

 

The elder Winchester got back inside the small motel room and woke the two men up, stating that he would be heading back to Sioux Falls at dusk. “Are the boys alright?” Questioned Jim, worried. “Yes, they are, and if you have no objection, I would like to get back to them now.” John shot back, glaring at Bobby, leaving no room for an argument. “Did you at least call them?” Asked Bobby, voice tired. 

 

 

The other man said nothing, but showed the call he had just made to his son instead. “Is this enough for you, or do you want to call him yourself?” “Fine, but I’ll come with you, besides, there is nothing to do here, right Jim?” Bobby asked, shooting a glance at the other man. “Right, of course Bobby.” Replied Jim, his face grim and worried.

 

Both John and Bobby packed their things and did indeed left the motel room at dusk- two hours after the phone call that is-, with John behind the wheel of the Impala, and his mind swirling around what he would find, once in Sioux Falls and Bobby sitting next to him, thinking if his boys, yeah, his boys, would have enough time to hide the various evidence of ‘their not-so- brotherly- actions… 

 

And so, the car roared, conquering the long, dark road, which was spreading ahead, covering the distance fast, giving no chance to Bobby to call Dean, and giving no chance to Dean or Sam, to prepare themselves for what was about to happen…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter has John returning home for good...


	15. The calm before the storm.(The time when suspicions are confirmed.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys gaze at the night sky. There is not a cloud to be seen. It's the calm before the storm, a calm which never lasts long. And for our boys time is finally up, as John enters the rom they share... And is confront with what he had been suspecting was going on...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is chapter 15!!! Hope you enjoy!

"And so, the car roared, conquering the long, dark road, which was spreading ahead, covering the distance fast, giving no chance to Bobby to call Dean, and giving no chance to Dean or Sam, to prepare themselves for what was about to happen…"

 

Back to Sioux Falls, right after the phone call had ended (6:35 in the afternoon)

 

“Well, you better be prepared to do a lot of cooking, mister lawyer, for we will have the house to ourselves, for at least two more days.” Dean stated, fixing his eyes on Sam. “Good, that’s good, um… But I should go-” But Dean wouldn’t have that.

 

“You’re the one who wanted to talk Sam, as always, so no, you’re going nowhere. Besides, we have time, as you just heard.” Sam took one more step backwards, tilting his head from side to side. “It’s not just what happened.” The younger man whispered, eyes sad. “It’s what could, have happened, what would, have happened, if the doctor hadn’t appeared when he did.” He muttered.

 

“Sam-” “No, no stop Dean, it was my fault, I wasn’t trained well enough, I didn’t have a gun, I was caught off guard…” Sam was trying so hard to prove his point to Dean, that he didn’t notice his brother leaning forwards, until their lips met. Callused hands, traveled down, from his shoulders, all the way down, to his hipbones. “Stop, stop this, stop repeating all those crap, which, I’m guessing, dad planted into your nerdy brain.” The older man muttered in the kiss, taking his brother’s face in his hands. 

 

“It’s the truth Dean-” “If it was me, the one who didn’t have a gun, wouldn’t you try to help me?” Questioned the green eyed man calmly and Sam hated that tone right then. “Of course Dean, but-” “So, end of story. It wasn’t your fault Sammy.” Hummed Dean, trying to kiss Sam again, but the younger Winchester swirled his body elegantly, turning his back on his brother.

 

“Wow, I always knew you could become a ballet dancer!” he said, smiling. “You wouldn’t let it happen.” Sam muttered, heading towards the wooden desk Bobby had. “Well, it’s not what I am dreaming about your future but-” “Cut the crap Dean, you know what I mean! You would never let me shield you, like you did, you’ve done it more than once, but you would never let me help you, protect you, or anything else…” Sam snapped, slamming his injured hand on the empty desk.

 

“You don’t have to, Sammy. You don’t have to repay me for anything I do for you baby boy, ‘cause I don’t want you to. I like doing things for you, I need to do things for you, I need to keep you safe, to take on this responsibility.” Dean answered, voice smooth, honesty filling it. Sam huffed, a sound which resembled a sob coming out of his throat.

 

“That’s what you do! You take all the responsibility on your shoulders and you don’t give a crap about the cost of your actions! Therefore, you don’t know how this feels, not being able to do something for you, because you will never let me! Not one freaking night goes by, that I don’t think about that hunt, about your blood and your screams and the way dad was looking at me!” Sam yelled, the fingers of his right hand clenching around the edge of the desk to the point where Dean could swear, either the wood, or Sam’s hand would break.

 

“Sam-” “No, admit it Dean, you would never let me shield you because-” “Because it’s my-” “No! No no no, don’t you dare, say that ‘it’s your job’ to protect me! You need to start warring about yourself as well!” Sam shot back, eyes stinking from the tears. “What I need, is my brother to stop trying to break his hand. So come on now, let go of the desk.” Dean replied, voice low, quiet, as his hands were trying to take a hold of Sam’s own hands. 

 

“Stop doing this, stop, just stop it, please! Why aren’t you angry, that my stupidity almost got you killed? Why aren’t you yelling at me, like dad did, why don’t you say that I screwed everything up? Why the hell, all you seem to care about, is me?” Sam continued, voice cracking at the end. 

 

 

The older man swallowed hard, blinked back the tears and spoke, voice remaining quiet. “I always thought you knew the reason why, especially, after we crossed the line of being more than brothers.” Dean whispered, and Sam drew in a sharp breath. 

 

“But, as it seems, I was wrong. Let me tell you then. You’re right, I’ll never let you do what I did back then. I will always be the one to shield you… The one to catch you before you fall, and not the other way around. Because I want to do it, because, I choose to do it, I need to do it. Because that’s who I am, Sam. And neither you, nor dad, can ever change that.” Stated the green eyed man, leaving no room for an argument.

 

“And what happens when-” “When you’ll be gone? I don’t know Sam, but, like you said, whether you’re here, or not, you will always be, my brother. So, I’m guessing that I’ll find a way to keep an eye on you.” Dean interjected. Sam huffed in anger and bit his bottom lip. “It’s not fair Dean, it’s-” But Dean cut him off.

 

“Let me worry about that Sam, but, just so you know… Watching out for you, taking care of you, is the only fair,and normal, since you mentioned it earlier, thing, that I have left. And you may not like it, the fact that someone watches over you. Besides, no nerdy-pain-in-the ass-little brother does. But that’s how it is, how it is always, going to be.” Declared the older man, eyes fixed on Sam’s back.

 

Silence filled the room, and the younger man hated himself right then, but there was nothing else he could say. He felt Dean’s callused fingers on his hand and hot breath on his ear. “You may think you’re not giving back enough. But like I said upstairs Sam, you do, you give me more than you know.” The middle Winchester muttered, making Sam shiver. “But, since you don’t believe me, I want you to do something for me, right now.” Sam tilted his head to the side, fixing his eyes on emerald ones, his nose touching Dean’s. 

 

Sam swallowed hard and nodded his head in approval. Whatever it was, he would do it, he was sure of it, even if Dean asked him to stay there and not go to Stanford. “I need you to stop thinking that what happened was your fault. And…” He continued, making the younger man close his mouth as soon as he had opened it, without uttering a word. “And… I need you to unclench your fingers from the desk, one at the time, alright?” He coaxed, his own hand ghosting over Sam’s.

 

The younger man did as he was told, realizing how strong his hold was on the desk, as every muscle on his wrist and fingers screamed in pain. His still colored wrist, was swollen and Sam moaned as he tried to make his fingers obey to his wishes. He felt Dean’s callused hand on his own and flinched at the touch.

 

“Jesus Sammy…” Dean hissed, guiding Sam towards the small couch, making him sit down on it. Before the young man could blink twice, Dean was gone from his side, only to return a minute later, holding a bawl filled with ice cubes and cold water in one hand and a towel in the other. 

 

“Give me your hand Sam…” Encouraged the other man, sinking the towel ιn the cold water. Sam reluctantly obeyed, shaking at the filling of ice on his burning skin. Dean knelled on the floor so as to be on the same level as his brother, setting the bowl aside, and flicked his eyes from the bruised flesh, on his brother’s face.

 

Emerald eyes met downcast hazel ones and Sam groaned silently, as Dean wrapped the towel around his wrist yet again. “Shh… Hey, easy, easy…” Sam let his eyes flutter close at the sound of Dean’s voice and tilted his head backwards. “That’s it baby boy, relax, let the muscles of your hand free, come on.” He coaxed, eyes returning on the swollen wrist.

 

 

“Agh, shit Dean, it’s freaking cold…” “ Shh, I know Sammy, I know, but It’ll help with the swelling as well as, the pain.” He muttered, holding the towel in place with one hand and taking Sam’s other hand in his grasp. Dean moistened the towel with water a couple more times, and remained silent for the most part. “What else did dad say?” he asked after a while. “Back then, what else did he-” “Nothing else, besides, he needed say nothing more.” Sam cut off. 

 

“This doesn’t change what I said.” Dean stated, fixing his gaze on Sam. “That’s who I am Sam, and I know, that I would rather do nothing else.” “I can’t change your mind then… Can I?” Sam muttered. “No, you can’t, you can’t Sammy.” Answered the other man, and Sam sighed in defeat… 

 

The two boys got up after a while and to his surprise, Sam was filling better than he had, in a long time. Dean knew everything that had happened and wasn’t mad, because he was who he was, and Sam adored him for that. He couldn’t ask him to change, but he could- and would- repay him for what he had done. With that thought in his head, he followed his brother back in the kitchen and helped him wash the dishes.

 

Both Sam, as well as Dean, would be lying, if they were to say they didn’t love the freedom they had right then. Sam was bent over the sink, washing the dishes, and Dean was tiding the pillows on the couch along with various other details. But every now and then, he would stop and in two, or three, large steps he would get himself behind Sam, kissing his neck, or trailing his hands down the length of his back. 

 

And so, dusk came and gone, giving its place in the early hours of the night. The moon, a crystal ball which was hanging above Sioux Falls had rise, coloring the sky with a silver-red hue. The sky above the small house was clear, not a cloud to be seen… It was nothing more however, than the calm before the storm.

 

“Are you sure that dad said he isn’t going to come back anytime soon?” Sam asked his brother, as he was locking the doors and checking the lines of salt on the windows. “Yeah, yeah I’m sure Sam, now lets go upstairs already!” The other man groaned and Sam couldn’t help, but smile. “Oh, so, there is no bar for the great conqueror tonight?” He teased, following Dean, who was already climbing the old staircase.

 

“Hmm…. If you want me to go…” Dean replied, chuckling, “Then I will, but…” “But? But what?” Sam asked, voice low, hands traveling down Dean’s muscular chest as they entered their room. “I think I have better things to do, wouldn’t you agree?” The older man rasped, pushing Sam with his back on the wall forcibly, attacking his mouth with his own. “Mnnn… Dean… Dean…” Sam muttered, somewhere in between hot kisses.

 

Oh, how he agreed with Dean… And they, had indeed, better things to do, rather than go to some old bar in Sioux Falls… Their bodies fell on the bed and their clothes flew off them, falling on the wooden floor of the room, creating a mosaic of colors. Synchronized they were, moving together in perfect harmony, two bodies which were craving for one another, two haves which were coming together and were becoming one… Then, they fell asleep, Sam in Dean’s arms. They fell asleep until early in morning… Until Sam, was waken up, by the cold air entering the room from the door which had been opened…

 

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN 

 

As the sun was rising, the 67’ Chevy Impala roared yet again, for John was pulling off the car, outside of Bobby’s house, back in Sioux Falls. “So John, can you unpack the car while I-” “No, no Bobby, not now, I’m tired as hell, so I’ll leave this to you.” John interjected and got out of the car. “It wasn’t me who wanted to drive all night you know!” He said, but John turn a deaf ear to everything the other man was saying.

 

Bobby knew he could do nothing more to delay the elder Winchester and was hoping beyond hope, that the boys were aware of their return. So, Bobby tossed the keys to the other man, who grabbed them, and started unpacking the car, while John, headed towards the house…

 

The living room was quiet, and tied up, the dishes were washed, the books and guns put back in their right place. This gave John some space, for the older man was feeling trapped in his own body. He started climbing the stairs, careful not to step on the pieces of wood which would crack underneath his feet.

 

The door of the guestroom, which was the room the boys were sharing, was shut. John stretched his hand, taking a hold of the door handle. He opened in half the way, with a firm move of his hand and stared at his boys. The blind was more than three-quarters down, yet one slight ray of sunlight was entering the room, illuminating Sam’s chocolate-brown hair. John’s breath was caught in his throat, as he was taking in, the whole picture lying before his eyes.

 

The two beds had been pushed together, forming one King sized bed. Sam’s hair and body was indeed illuminated by that ray of sunlight, making him look many years younger. His body, was held in Dean’s arms, held safely, protectively, in the cocoon of Dean’s arms and own body. Their legs were tangled up together, and a thin sheet was covering them. The sheet, black in color, was stained with sweat and…

 

“Oh, God…” The elder Winchester whispered, shocked, taking a few steps backwards, as his mind was unable to process the fact that what had stained the sheet was come. Stepping backwards, John felt that his foot stepped on something soft. He managed to tear his eyes from the boys, to look at his feet. He saw that he was stepping on a T-shirt, probably Dean’s. His eyes flecked from his foot to the rest of the floor and the various pieces of clothing which were lying all around the room. 

 

This… This wasn’t right, it wasn’t right. Yet, John had never seen neither of his sons sleeping so peacefully. It seemed as though, they were dead to the world. If the one who had entered the house- and more importantly- the room, was someone who wished to harm them, or something supernatural, they would both be dead, minutes ago. Rage, anger, disgust and shame, all rose up in his chest, battling brutally, to take over him. 

 

He shut his eyes tightly, hoping that when he would reopen them, the picture before him, would somehow, be gone. But it wasn’t. Cold air entered the room through the open door, but John couldn’t feel it. Sam, however, could. The younger man shivered slightly, body cuddling instinctively, closer to the one of his brother. Hazel eyes cracked open, and John heard Sam muzzling in the crook of Dean’s neck. This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, so, fucking wrong. 

 

John was repeating the word ‘wrong’ through clenched teeth, his hand ghosting over his gun. “They are not themselves, they can’t be…” A faint voice inside his head, said. It was his last resort, and the instinct of hunter overwhelmed the older man. He took a hold of his gun and removed the safety. 

 

It was this clicking, this familiar metallic noise, which made Sam’s body tense up for good. He darted his head upwards, supporting his weight on his right elbow, and stared at the door. John saw his son’s hazel eyes fly open, he saw all color leaving his face in a heartbeat. His lips quivered, as he was trying to form a word, but all he managed to do was open and close his mouth.

 

John’s eyes, hard and filled with disgust, stared at Sam, and then, at his gun. Sam darted his head from side to side, mouthing the word ‘no’ over and over, all while trying to move his body to the center of the bed. At the slightest sign of movement, John pointed his gun right on Sam’s chest… But this wasn’t right either. This boy, was his son, the last piece Mary had left in this world, how could he point a gun at him?

 

Sam’s heart skipped a beat, or maybe more, at the sight of his father standing at the door, holding his gun in his hand. His whole body tensed up even more, but he knew there was nothing that could be done. He was feeling lost to the world, helpless and defenseless before John’s menace… He was alone and… “Shh… sleep Sammy… shh… a dream baby… ‘M right here… R’t here…” Dean’s sleeping words broke the deafening silence of the room, making John flick his eyes to his elder son. 

 

Sam’s own eyes blurred, and he drew in a sharp breath as Dean pulled him more to his chest. Oh God, even in sleep, Dean could understand the way Sam’s body was tensing and he was trying to calm him down. “Wake him up!” his subconscious screamed at him, as a huge amount of adrenaline and fear filled every vein in his body. ‘I’ll always be the one to shield you, to catch you before you fall… Not the other way around. Because that’s who I am Sam.’ Dean’s words echoed in Sam’s mind loud and clear.

 

And that was it, those words which gave the young man the courage he was missing. He wasn’t alone in this, Dean was with him, and this was his chance, to protect him, to help him, to repay him, for what he had done last year. Not just last year, but many times in the past. “Dad… it’s us.” He whispered. “Put the gun down, please…” He pleaded, his gaze flicking between Dean and his father.

 

“John, come downstairs, help me out you jerk!” Bobby’s pissed off voice echoed in the house. The green eyed man winced at the sound of the old man’s voice, and Sam could tell he would be awake soon. “Cristo”.” Sam muttered, fixing his eyes on the ones of his father. And John hoped beyond hope, that hazel eyes would turn into black ones… But they didn’t, to the contrary, the shined, becoming gold-brown, under the sunlight. “Please… Dad, let me-” “Bring him downstairs as well…” John said, voice low, gravely. 

 

With those words, John turned his back on Sam and left the room, left as fast as he had entered… Leaving Sam alone, with just a minute, or maybe two, to make a choice. Tell Dean the truth, or lie to him? One of the many choices he would have to make that day… And as the sun was rising, a new day was at hand, bringing with it hope for some, and desperation for others…

 

Sam swallowed hard and felt his hands trembling. His breath was trapped somewhere inside his throat, he didn’t have to breathe after all, for the world had stopped spinning. “Oh my God…” he mumbled as his mind and heart both began to understand what had happened. His father had pointed a gun at him, his father had seen them lying together, had seen the clothes on the floor, the stained sheets, had seen… But why? How the hell could he be back already? How the hell… ?

 

But that didn’t matter, not right then. Looking for the reason why, the motivations and the reasons behind the lie John had told them the previous evening. Only one thing mattered right then. That he was back, and that Sam had to find a way to face him, alone… Dean couldn't know that their dad had caught them sleeping together, for they would end up killing one another. But how could he lie to him? How could he face it alone...? He had to find an excuse and keep Dean inside their room. "Tide the beds, yeah, it sounded good, tide the beds the sheets, the pillows ,as well as the clothes while I go downstairs and delay dad from coming up here..." Sam thought to himself. But the more he was thinking about it, the more his body was trembling...

 

The shudders of Sam’s body was what woke Dean up, a minute after their dad had walked out of their door. His eyes cracked open and he bolted upright at once, after seeing his brother trying to get up, but stumbling on his own feet, which ended up in him falling face-down on the floor. “Sam? Sammy, what is it baby?” he rasped, struggling with the sheets. He hurried up and got on his feet, only to fell on his knees beside Sam the very next second, taking a hold of his brother’s face in his hands in a vice-like grip. "Sam, look at me, baby, I need you to look at me."

 

Sam fixed his eyes on Dean and took in a shaky breath as he felt Dean's hands on his shoulders and then on both sides of his face. "Sam, Sammy what’s wrong? You dreamed about dad or something?” Dean asked, voice weary. His thumps run over Sam's cheekbones repeatedly as the older man took in the image of his brother. "Look... Look outside the..." But Sam's voice trembled and fainted. "Sammy, baby, breathe for me, breathe, come on... God Sam, you're white as the wall... What is it Sammy, tell me baby." he coaxed, voice hoarse but caring and worried. "Look outside of the window... " Sam managed to say. Dean moved his hands from Sam’s face to his shoulders and back, running them all over them repeatedly, while glaring over the window. His ‘Baby’ was parked on the front yard, which could only mean one thing. "How the hell can he be back..?" Dean muttered, body tensing up.

 

"Sam, is there any chance he has come up here inside the room?" Dean asked, fixing his green eyes on Sam's. "Sammy, if you know , I need you to tell me baby, I'm not going to be mad, alright?" Is there any chance he has come up here? Is this why you tensed up earlier? Is this why you're shaking so bad?" He asked, and Sam felt though his heart had stopped beating. "Answer me Sammy, answer me, has he come in here? Tell me Sam, tell me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep,,, Next chapter will be up soon, but not before next week to say the least, for I am on vacation! :-) Hope you all enjoy it!!! Thank you all...!!!! Comments and Kudos are always like ice-cream on a hot day!!!


	16. The storm Awakens:Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, comes face to face with his father. Can he make his father understand the reasons which led to what he has with Dean? Can he protect his brother and save him from the pain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to you all! I hope that you're all doing ok and that you are healthy and happy! Thank you for all the support, comments, kudos, subscriptions, and of course thank you for reading this! I hope it is not too OCC or too lame...  
> So, here is chapter 16! Hope you all enjoy!  
>  So, off we go!

“Answer me Sam! Has he been in here? Is this the reason why, you’re as pale as the wall? Is this the reason why, you’re shaking like you are going to break, even though I hold you so close to my body? Tell me Sam, tell me!” Dean demanded, his hold on Sam’s shoulders almost painful. The younger man swallowed hard, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. What the hell should he do? Truth, or lies?

‘Tell him the truth, the truth, the truth… ’ His heart screamed with every beat. “Sam! Tell me!” Dean repeated, panic overtaking him as well. ‘Lie to him, lie to him! He can’t know that John saw you two together. He could even… Kill him for doing such a thing, because there is no doubt, that he will take the blame on himself!’ A voice inside his head yelled back. ‘You two have always been together, so you will face this together as well!’ ‘There are some things that one must face alone. This is one of them…’ “Sam!” The older man yelled. 

 

“No… No he hasn’t been in here, I’m sure Dean…” Sam muttered, voice cracking. “How can you be sure?” “Because I have been awake, for a few minutes now.” Sam cut off, reclaiming his self control. Whatever self control Sam had managed to reclaim however, Dean seemed to be loosing. The green eyed man passed his fingers through his short hair, and tried to breathe evenly, but failed. Sam could see what was going on and spoke, filling his voice with determination, which he didn’t know the origin of.

 

“Dean, listen, we don’t have time for this, stay here and push the beds away from one another, change the sheets, hide the cloths and return the pillows inside Bobby’s bedroom. I’ll go downstairs and delay dad as much as possible.” Sam stated, but the other man seemed unable to process Sam’s words. “Dean, come on, are you with me?” Sam asked, grabbing Dean’s right shoulder with his hands, making him tear his eyes from the window. 

 

“Dean!” “Alright, alright, I’m…” but the older man paused to take a calming breath. “I’m with you Sam.” He murmured, and the younger Winchester found himself repeating his idea. “Wow, wow, wow, hold on, you’re going nowhere Sam. I know you, you are trying to calm down, but you’ll end up fighting with dad, so, I’ll go downstairs and you will stay here.” The green eyed man replied, putting on his underwear as well as his jeans. “Oh, and you won’t end up fighting with him Dean?” Sam rasped putting his shirt on.

 

“No Sam, I won’t end up fighting with him, because I will apologize to him about what I said the night before he took off.” Dean replied, glancing over his shoulder to his brother. ‘If he does that, dad will get angry as hell!’ Sam heard the voice inside his mind yelling. 

 

“No Dean, I…” ‘What the hell should I tell him now?’ Sam thought to himself, losing the battle to remain calm. He looked at his sweating hands… His hands…. His hands! That was it! “I can’t stay here Dean, because I can’t push the beds aside, or make any sudden moves, my wrist is still hurting me.” Sam answered bringing his wrist between them. 

 

“That’s the reason you wouldn’t let me… ride you last night as well!” he continued, lowering his voice. Dean let out a long, frustrated sigh, and gathered the remaining clothes up, from where they had been tossed on the floor. “Fine, fine, but try not to have a fight with him, alright?” Dean almost pleaded, and Sam could see the way his body was tensing at the thought of Sam being the one to talk to their father. To be honest, he was terrified as well, but the only alternative was something Sam would die to prevent from happening. 

 

The younger man nodded his head even though he knew that a fight with their father, was inevitable. “Wait, if dad didn’t come up here, then what woke you up?” Dean rasped all of a sudden, and Sam froze by the door. “I… I heard the car pulling off, isn’t that enough?” He answered, turning his back on his brother, ready to leave the room. “Cut the crap Sam, no, even that’s not a good enough reason for your reaction.” Dean shot back, grabbing Sam’s shoulder, to stop him from leaving the room.

 

“God, Dean, dad has come back and our room is a mess and you want to talk about-” “About you, yeah, because it doesn’t make sense that you heard the car and I didn’t. You said, you’ve been awake before dad came back. So, what the hell woke you up Sam?” ‘Stop asking… Dean, don’t make me lie to you, just stop asking…’ Sam thought to himself and flicked his eyes around the room, to avoid Dean’s emerald ones. 

 

 

“Dean, let me go, damn it, this isn’t important right now! Dad could come in-” “Let him come, I don’t care.” “Yeah, right, that’s why you panicked and I had to repeat my idea twice.” Sam cut off, freeing himself from his brother’s hold, only to be stopped by Dean’s hand on the door. “You were- and still are- pale as the ghosts we hunt and you’re shaking. I can see it Sam, despite your praiseworthy efforts to hide it. Dude, you look like you want to throw up!” Dean said, waving his hands in anger.

 

“Dean, you’re freaked as well-” “Yeah, because dad is downstairs, but you said this wasn’t the reason you woke up.” Dean stated, eyes fixed on Sam’s hazel ones. “I won’t ask again, what woke you up, what made you like that?” Sam sighed, meeting Dean’s emerald gaze as he answered. 

 

“You did.” Sam shot back, turning around, to face his brother. “You made me like that.” “What?” “You… I dreamed… I dreamed that you died in my arms, stupid huh?” The young man muttered, thinking that, that was a convincing enough excuse, given all the things they had talked about the previous day. He heard his brother swallowing hard and saw his hands falling to his sides, freeing the door. “Good, I’m glad I can go and save our asses now.” Sam declared, as he moved to leave the room yet again, eyes fixed on his feet. 

 

 

Strong hands stopped him however, tugging him close to Dean’s muscular chest. “Dean-” “Dad’s going to be downstairs next minute as well Sam.” He whispered, brushing his lips on the younger man’s ear. The other man could feel the tension in his brother’s body and so he pressed one hand on Sam’s chest and his other on his belly. 

 

And Sam, who knew that they would probably have to break up in a few hours, leaned into the touch and let his tears fall… For Dean’s hand was on his chest right where the bullet from John’s gun would have been. Even the thought made him shiver.

 

“Shh… I’m here Sam, I’m right here baby boy, I’m not going anywhere, not even if dad finds out about us, alright?” “Don’t be…” But Sam’s voice fainted. The hunter cleared his throat and tried again. “If he finds out what we’ve been doing-” “If he finds out, we will make him understand, like we made Bobby.” Dean whispered, finding strength in Bobby’s words, from two nights ago. “And if he doesn’t want to understand? We’re his sons and…” “If he doesn’t want to accept it, we’ll leave Sam.” The younger man drew in a sharp breath and his body went still. 

 

“You don’t mean that, you love him… You need him, and so do I, Dean.” Sam uttered. “Yeah Sam, I do, but he has hit you twice already, and you don’t deserve this. Just like he doesn’t deserve to live in this lie, we’ve been telling him. None of us does. So, yeah, if we come to the worst, I’ll take you away from here Sam.” Dean said and the younger man knew that he had to brace himself and go downstairs, for it was now or never. He couldn’t let Dean sacrifice more than he already had, for him. 

 

He took in a shaky breath, brushed his tears with the back of his hand and left Dean’s protective embrace. “I’ll be with you soon, alright Sam?” Dean assured casting one last glance at his brother. “Yeah… Hey, Dean…” But Sam’s voice trailed off. “Yeah, Sammy?” Questioned the older man, seeing the fear dwelling inside hazel orbs. 

 

 

‘I love you, I love you so much and dad saw us, dad saw us, but I don’t care ‘cause you said we can leave here…’ But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force himself to speak of those words, thus, different words ended up getting out of his lips. “I’m glad you’re alright.” He muttered and headed downstairs, to face their father, leaving Dean alone in the room. 

 

With heavy steps he climbed down the old staircase, thankful to the cracking wood, for it was covering his uneven breathing. “You’re up early, you idjit.” Bobby’s voice echoed from the kitchen and Sam flinched at the sound of those words. His hazel eyes flicked, from Bobby to the front yard, in which his father was waiting for him, gun still in his hand.

 

Swallowing hard, Sam returned his eyes on Bobby, covering the distance between them in two large steps. “Sam, why are you-” “No, you don’t get to ask me anything Bobby.” He muttered, jaw twitching, lips quivering. “What are you talking about-” “Listen to me Bobby, I need you to take care of Dean alright? Promise me, that you will take care of him that you will look after him, please.” Sam almost begged, trembling hands grabbing fistfuls of the man’s shirt. 

 

 

“What the hell-” “Promise me, Bobby!” “Alright Sam, alright, I promise, I will take care of, and look after him.” The other man answered, taking in the amount of fear in Sam’s eyes. “Sam… Son, what happened? You knew we were coming back, right?” he said, leaving the rest of the sentence (“and therefore you knew to hide all the evidence of your… actions”), unspoken, but Sam knew it was there. 

 

 

“John called Dean and showed me the call himself, thus you should have had time to-” “He lied, Bobby he lied to us, he told us you wouldn’t be back for another two to three days because you hadn’t found the witch…” “What? The witch was dead when we got there, Pastor Jim had managed to kill her.” Bobby cut off, surprise clear in both his voice as well as on his face. “No, no he lied to us and he came upstairs… He saw us, upstairs…” Sam muttered, voice cracking.

 

Bobby’s face paled and his eyes opened wide at the sound of those, broken words. “Does Dean-” “No, he doesn’t know and I’ll make sure he doesn’t learn either. I’ll take it all on me and I… I will make sure Dean gets to be with dad and have his respect as well as his love.” Sam stated, clenching his fingers tighter around the man’s shirt. 

 

“You can’t do this alone son…” Bobby replied, cupping the back of Sam’s neck with his hand, eyes filled with love staring at the courageous young man. “I have to, Bobby, Dean needs dad more than me, I know it and I understand it.” Sam whispered. “So for just this once, I’ll be the one to pull him out of the fire and not the other way around.” He continued, inhaling through his nose.

 

“Let me talk to him first-” “No, no Bobby, you have a promise to keep.” Sam answered, freeing himself from the man’s hold and heading towards the door. “Bobby… Thank you for everything you’ve done for us all those years and especially ever since last year.” “Sam… This house will always be open for you son.” Bobby muttered, his eyes stinging as they watched Sam walking out of the door and then following his father, who was heading as far from the house as possible.

 

The chill of the early morning made the young man shiver and he crossed his hands on his chest to try and warm himself up. The sky was lighted red, for a red sun had just risen, which meant, blood was spilled the night before. The houses next to Bobby’s house were still quiet, their owners still asleep, unaware of what was happening next door. 

 

“Where is your… brother?” Questioned John, with a cold, hard voice. Father and son were now standing face to face, on the back yard of the house, where they couldn’t be seen from any window, save the one of the guest room in which Dean was. That was something John didn’t notice however.

 

 

“Upstairs, dad, listen, let me explain-” “Don’t…” The older man snapped, pointing his gun right on Sam’s chest yet again. “Don’t call me that, you’re not my son, you hear me?” Sam’s eyes blurred, but he managed to maintain his voice steady. He drew the silver flask with the holy water out of his back pocket and held it before his father’s eyes.

 

He grabbed it with both hands and John felt his heart skipping several beats when Sam didn’t flinch at the touch of pure silver on his skin, or at the touch of Holly water on his lips. “Dad it’s me, it’s, us and-” “‘Us’ you say… yet Dean is not here.” “I didn’t-” “I don’t care, I’ll talk to him later, in fact, it may be better that he is not here right now…” John rasped. “Dad I… I don’t want you to tell him-” Sam tried to speak, but the older man wouldn’t let him.

 

“Who… Who started it?” The older hunter asked, even though he didn’t want to know the answer. “Me, I started everything, and I convinced Dean that what we have is not wrong.” Sam lied shamelessly, hardening the expression on his face, using every bit of knowledge he had on how to put on a poker face.

 

 

“You…? And how could you? No, no forget that, why did Dean let you brainwash him?” John murmured, more to himself, rather than Sam. “I didn’t brainwash him, I-” “How long has this been going on?” “One year and three months, as of next week. Ever since that hunt-” “With the werewolves, am I right?” John questioned, in a voice of still. “Yes sir, you’re right.” Sam answered, clinching his fingers into fists.

 

“You have known for a while, haven’t you?” Sam dared to ask. “You’re not the one asking the questions here.” Replied John, voice hard and cold. “How long have you being suspecting us? Was that the reason why, you wanted me to move in the back seat of the Impala? Was that the reason why you said all those things to my brother? Was that the reason why, you told him he isn’t good enough? Is this why, you treated him as though he was trash?” But John could hear no more.

 

 

“Enough! Don’t you feel, even a bit of shame inside you? I caught you and him lying together, for the love of God!” John rasped, eyes narrowing. “And what about you dad? You lied shamelessly yesterday, so why don’t you feel ashamed?” Sam asked, anger building up in his voice. Sam knew he wasn’t playing fair, but he couldn’t care less about it.

 

 

“If I hadn’t done what I did, God knows how long you would keep this up! All those lies you’ve been telling me for so long… are now over! So you will answer to me now, not the other way around! Do I make myself clear?” John hissed, hand twitching over his gun. Sam swallowed hard, nodding his head. As much as he may have hated to admit it, his father was right. 

 

John sighed and let his gaze wander on Bobby’s yard, for a long moment before returning to Sam, who somehow knew the question which his father was going to ask next. “And you’ve been fucking each other since then?” John said, chocking a sound which resembled a laughter but was not one. “No, we have never fucked each other, or to be accurate, he has never…” But Sam stopped himself before the words he was going to speak manage to get out of his mouth. 

 

 

‘You can’t screw this up, it’s important that you take all the blame on your shoulders, thus, you’ve been fucking him, not the other way around!’ The voice inside Sam’s head yelled yet again. “To be accurate, Dean has never let me fuck him.” Sam said through clenched teeth, but before he could finish the last word, John’s hard knuckles were crushing on his right cheek. The punch was hard and fast, making the young man see stars.

 

 

Sam, who was caught off guard, took several steps backwards, but fixed his hazel eyes on his father yet again. He wiped the blood which was running down his nose with the back of his palm, and moved a few steps forwards again. “Don’t lie to me, I saw you two, I saw the sheets-” “We’ve made love, we have had sex, but not once, did we fuck. You have better accept this dad.” The younger man stated, refusing to give in to his fears.

 

“Don’t play little lawyer to me! ‘We have never fucked, but we’ve made love!’ That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? Playing with words, changing them, in order to hide the truth!” John rasped, blood boiling in his veins. “Maybe you are right, I do play with words, I do… twist their meaning…” Sam managed to say, voice eerie calm and low. “Maybe that’s how I convinced Dean to agree with this, but no matter what you may think, I won’t change what I just said.” He continued, eyes sparkling. “Not once, did we fuck.” Sam repeated.

 

 

The young man flicked his eyes from his father, to the window of the first floor and caught a glimpse of Dean, who was at that moment, changing the sheets. “No matter what happens in the very end, Sam… We will never just fuck one another, you hear me? This is you and me that we’re talking about, not some random dudes. So, I want you, to put this inside that thick skull you have, alright? We will have sex, we will make love, but not once, will we fuck.” Dean’s words echoed in Sam head. He returned his gaze on his father and swallowed hard.

 

 

John’s face flushed red and his eyes widened, so Sam tried to change the subject, tried to make him understand their motives. “Dad, try to understand, please… We were constantly left alone, we still share a bed most of the time, we have no friends, no one, outside of one another-” The second punch was even harder than the previous one and this time Sam lost his balance, falling on the cold floor hard. “You’re implying that what happened between you and him is my fault?” John yelled, hard eyes looking down at his son. Sam gathered his courage and got up on his feet. “Part of it is dad, part of it is.” Sam whispered.

 

 

“You never gave Dean a single praise about all his hard work, about his never ending obedience to every order you would give him. He has never felt… That you love him for what he is dad, for what he really is, for what he wants to be, not what, you, want him to be. Not once, so whose fault is that?” Sam snapped, eyes sparkling. “And he found what he was missing as you were fu-” “He knows I love him dad, and for the last time, we never fucked! I know it’s hard, but… It happened and please, please, try to understand…” Sam pleaded, eyes and face softening, a thin line of fresh blood still running down his nose.

 

“What would people say about you?” John asked and Sam felt as though he was listening himself asking. “We… We don’t care about what others have to say. We kill monsters so they can live happily, but when we take something for ourselves, then we enter the picture? So, they have a right to talk and judge us, great, but where are they when we need them? Where were they, when that vampire turned a young child and you had to kill them both? Where were they, last year, when my brother almost died? Nowhere! So, no, we don’t give a crap about them!” But John cut him off.

 

 

“Do you understand what it is that you’ve been doing? It’s incest, it’s twisted and it can not be justified! John said pointing his gun at Sam once again. “Dad… Please at least-” “Fine, the world, you don’t give a shit about. What about your mother? What would she have to say?” John snapped, voice low. 

 

 

“Dad… God, just, please, stop playing this card. Mom is dead, but since you asked here is the answer. Maybe, if she was alive, we would have never gone down the road we have. Thus I, and Dean wouldn’t be together like we are now. But maybe we would.” Sam dared to say and John took a step forwards, rage burning him.

 

“In that case, I think she would understand, I’m sure she wouldn’t like it either, but parents do not abandon their children, they still care about them, even if their choices are not the best.” Sam continued, but started taking steps backwards for his father was now, beyond mad.

 

 

“We… We know, that what we do, what we have is not right but… But we need-” “You keep saying ‘we’ yet I’ve no idea if Dean really wants this, so bring him here right now! Your time to explain is over, now it’s his turn! Bring him here right now!” John ordered, voice rising dangerously. “And if he says that he wants this as well, then you’ll think about it? I’m not saying that you have to accept it at once, but if you hear it from him as well… Will you, at least, try to understand?” Sam asked, hope rising in his chest.

 

“No. There is nothing to understand here. I’ll talk to Dean and then, I’ll take drastic measures for the both of you, so that this… Thing you dragged him into, will come to an end.” John stated and Sam felt his breath trapped in his throat. “So, bring him here now, or I will.” The older man ordered, and Sam's heart skipped yet another beat...


	17. The storm Awakens: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Sam's efforts, John has made up his mind, he wants to talk to Dean and break the two boys up. But he then understands that he is to blame as well, for the relationship his sons have, for he was the one who let it happen. Thus, he comes up with a plan to separate them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here is chapter 17, which is the second part of the conversation John has with Sam, and Dean. When everything around you are falling down, you need to take drastic measures for the ones you love....  
> Thank you all for your support! Issraa thank you for all your never ending support! I hope you all enjoy this!  
> Thank you all!

THEN...

“No. There is nothing to understand here. I’ll talk to Dean and then, I’ll take drastic measures for the both of you, so that this… Thing you dragged him into, will come to an end.” John stated and Sam felt his breath trapped in his throat. “So, bring him here now, or I will.” The older man ordered, and Sam felt his heart skipping, yet another beat…

 

NOW...

“No.” Was all Sam said, clearing his throat as he spoke. “What did you say?” John asked, jaw twitching, his fingers ghosting over the trigger of his loaded gun. “I said… No. I haven’t told him you saw us upstairs. If you go and tell him that now, you’ll just lose him, lose us, dad.” Sam said, playing one of the cards he didn’t want to. “What is that suppose to mean exactly?” John asked, eyes piercing his youngest son like needles. 

 

 

“He told me, that he would take me and leave here if you were to find out, about us, and not at least, try, to understand.” Sam stated, determined to do anything, in order to not make his brother encounter his father. But despite his praiseworthy devotion and his efforts, it now seemed almost impossible to avoid bringing Dean downstairs.

 

 

“You don’t understand, do you?” John snarled and Sam shivered at the sound of his voice. “This stops now, the lie is over, it’s done, and either you like it, or not, Dean will come down here and he will have to understand some things. One way, or the other.” John stated, eyes flicking from Sam to his gun and back again.

 

“I won’t say it again, bring him down here-” “See, that’s what I’ve been talking about! You don’t care about his feelings! I know what we have is wrong, but I am the one to blame. Me, dad, only me. And I am standing right in front of you, and yet, you want to bring Dean here, only to make him pay! He is your son, I’m your son! What are you going to do dad? Shoot us? Beat us senseless? What?” Sam shouted, knowing that this was the last ace up in his sleeve.

 

“He is to blame as well!” “No, he isn’t and I don’t want him to have to take responsibility for something I started.” Sam said, eyes shining.  
“Yes, you started it, but Dean accepted it. And, are you listening to yourself? You’re asking me to accept and allow this to continue? What reasonable man would let this continue?” “One who has dragged his kids down a road of death, guns and military training, one who has robbed them of all innocence, one who loves them enough and who doesn’t want to lose them.” Sam said, putting every bit of hope he had in those words. 

 

For a long, torturous moment, John stood frozen, gazing at his son. “You really think that? You really think, that Dean is not to blame for this? John mocked, making Sam’s face frown. “Yes.” “And you honestly believe, I can allow this to continue? You may not understand this now, but you will destroy him. You will both regret this soon enough. So, I may be the one who dragged you down this road, who robbed you of your childhood innocence, but… I am not the one who will let you do this neither to Dean, nor to yourself.” John replied.

 

 

“So you prefer to lose us, lose Dean? Dean, who would die for you? Dean, who loves you more than himself? Cause that’s what will happen if you tell him you saw us.” “Do you really think that you two, can leave? And go where? Do what? Live how? As brothers who are having an affair?” John snapped, but so did Sam.

 

 

“I told you, we don’t care-” “Cut the crap Sam! You were the one who always wanted to be normal! And now, not only you’re as far from it as possible, but you also, want me to believe, that you don’t care about what the rest of the world will think about you!” “Wanting to be normal, is something I’ve always wanted. But as long as I am with you, I won’t have it. I’ve come to terms with that. And that’s why I gave in, to my feelings for Dean as well. We are far from normal anyway, and what we have between us, is harming no one. So, yes, I don’t care what others will have to say about us.” Sam stated, eyes fixed on his father.

 

 

“I can’t believe what you are saying. I doubt that you believe what you’re saying either. You really think he means that? That you will leave here?” “I know he does mean it dad, but I don’t want to put him through it, and neither should you. So please… Act like you never saw us, besides, I’ll leave for Stanford in a few months and then, you won’t have to pretend anymore.” Sam pleaded, voice low. This was his last resort, he could find nothing more to say. Now it was all up to John.

 

But John had no more patience to spare, and Sam’s last words were the ones which made him see red all around him. He moved forwards, punching Sam again, hard, not caring about the blood which had dyed his hand red. “Enough! You have to learn your limits! Who do you think you are Sam? The one who can control everyone else as he likes? Well, I beg to differ! And, so that you know, Dean will go nowhere, whether you believe it, or not!” John yelled.

 

The older man shouted loud enough that Dean’s gaze fell on the back yard for the first time in a long while. And as soon as he took in what was happening, the green eyed man abandoned his chores and turned around. This was coming to an end, that, he was sure of. The way he was going to end it, was yet to be seen. “Yes… I do believe Dean will take me and leave, as soon as he sees my face.” Sam snapped, after he had managed, to take in a deeper breath. “Let him see it then!” John yelled, punching the younger man one more time.

 

 

“Well Sammy, I have news for you!” The older man growled, grabbing Sam by the collar of his shirt, shaking him hard. “Neither he, nor you, will leave! You’ll go nowhere, and this twisted monstrosity, you two have, stops now! You will be the one to stop it, just like you started it!” “Get off of me, stop it, stop you son of-” “Watch your mouth!” John yelled, avoiding Sam’s punch, grabbing his right wrist, making him moan loudly, in pain.

 

“This, is your lesson son! You’re going nowhere not at that university, not anywhere, unless i say so, do I make myself clear?” John repeated, dropping his gun on the ground so as to grab both of Sam’s arms and pin him down for good. “As for Dean, I will make sure he understands his mistake…” But John’s words were caught in his throat at the sound of Sam’s whimper.

 

 

“Dean…” “Dean isn’t here to save you Sam, you refused to call him, so now-” But John stopped talking yet again, for another whimper escaped Sam’s lips. “Dean, let… let go of the gun! Please, De-” “Let him go right the fuck now!” John heard his son’s voice and turned around to face him.

 

 

“This is loaded Dean.” Stated John, voice cold. “I know it, and I also know how to use it, thanks to you, so get away from him, now!” Dean repeated, face hardening, hand stretching, finger on the trigger, the gun pointed straight at John. “Let him go now, or I swear…” Dean said, eyes burning. The older man let his son go, and Sam got up, only to stumble on his own feet, a minute later. 

 

“Come, come here Sam, grab my hand.” Dean encouraged, offering his hand, which Sam took, remaining silent. His tensed body touched Dean’s and for a splinted second the younger man wanted nothing more, but to let Dean hold him close. Their eyes met, and dread took over Sam. Had his brother heard that his father had seen them? Was that the reason why, he had pointed the gun at him? Sam got ready to ask, but was interrupted by Bobby, who was heading towards them. 

 

 

“Dean, what the hell, why did you ran like that, you almost broke the staircase down, and boy-” The older man stopped dead in his tracks however, as soon as his eyes took in the state Sam was in, blood running from his mouth and from his nose, his lip was torn and his right wrist badly bruised and strained.

 

“What the-” “I saw you punching him from the window, from the room upstairs, you punched him as though he was some kind of monster. And when I got here, I heard you saying that he would go nowhere, and that, this…” Here, Dean paused, looking at the various drops and thin lines of blood which had stained the cold floor, “This, what you were doing, was his lesson. Tell me dad, what did he say, what could he possibly tell you, that pissed you off that much, huh?” Dean yelled, hand trembling. 

 

 

“I don’t know son, maybe you could guess.” John replied, eyes fixed on Dean’s. “Are you in your right mind? He is your son!” Dean continued, eyes stinging. “It’s my fault, but I just told you the truth dad, that I will leave for Stanford.” Sam muttered, glad that his brother didn’t hear that his father had seen them. The very next second though, he was covering his mouth with his palm, as more blood threatened to flow freely.

 

“Sam, hey, hey, no, spit it out, come on, spit Sam.” Dean said, softening his voice as he lowered his brother to his knees, helping him spit the blood from his mouth. “Once I take him inside and clean his wounds, we will talk.” Dean declared, but John had other plans. “No, we have to talk so you will go nowhere.” Dean snapped, but didn’t do anything else. He had waited long enough and his patience had run out.

 

“N- n- no, De’n…” Sam whispered, dropping a letter from his brother’s name, much like when he was younger and hurt. “Get inside Sam, I’ll be there shortly, alright?” the green eyed man coaxed, flicking his eyes on Bobby for backup. “He will stay right here with you, he won’t die for the love of God, it’s just a few-” But John’s words died in his throat as Dean pointed the gun at him yet again. His hand tried to remove the safety and his face went ashen when he realized it had already been removed.

 

“You… were holding a gun at him and you had removed the safety?” He managed to say, and John could see that something inside Dean broke. “It was removed earlier and I forgot to-” “Enough dad… Sam get inside, go on.” Dean repeated, tugging Sam on his feet again. “Come on son, you have to clean your face and wrap your wrist with something.” Bobby said, guiding Sam towards the house, with small, slow steps. The younger man shot one last glance at his brother and prayed, to whatever God dwelled in Heaven, that Dean would somehow, avoid the pain of abandoning his father, for his sake.

 

Dean followed Sam and Bobby with his eyes, until the two of them were inside the house. As soon as they had disappeared, Dean turned to his father. His eyes, cold and hard looked at the older man and John understood then, that if stares could kill, he would be dead.

 

 

“Before you say anything… I need you to answer me one question.” Dean said, voice low, hurt. “And what would that question be?” “Is there something you would like to say to me? Did you see anything… Disturbing as you got here? Because if that’s the case, then, I’m the one you should beat the crap out of, not Sam.” Dean rasped, darting his head to the side, pointing at the house.

 

 

“Disturbing?” “Yes, anything that would somehow, justify the fact that you just beat the crap out of my brother, again!” “Again? Is this what he has told you?” “‘Told me?’ So, you’re calling him a liar now? Didn’t you, almost strain his wrist two nights ago? Didn’t you shove him on a wall and told him God knows what, a few weeks ago?” Dean yelled waving his hands. “Not to mention, all the things you said to him after that hunt with the werewolves, about a year ago!” He continued.

 

“No Dean, you really don’t want to mention that now. Besides, why do you know that?” “You really thought you could hide it forever? Hadn’t it crossed your mind, that sooner or later, I would remember what had happened?” “Remember what had happened, yes, you could remember, but know what I had told to Sam no, that couldn’t happen, unless…” “Unless Sam opened his mouth to talk about it, something he should have done a long time ago!” Dean snapped, anger building up in his voice. 

 

“No, he shouldn’t have done it, and I had ordered him not to do it!” “Well, for once Sam obeyed your orders, but only because he was afraid he would make me angry!” “And were you, angry?” John questioned. “No, no dad, and why, why, did you blame him for something I had done?” Dean yelled, anguish filling his voice.  
“I chose to shield him, it wasn’t his fault!” “It sure was, and you could have died because of his lack of training!” “And if I hadn’t done what I did, so could he!” Dean yelled, eyes fixed on his father.

 

 

“You will not always be there for him Dean, and there will come a time when he will be alone! In fact, that time may be closer than you think!” John replied. “Not as long as I am around dad. It was you, who shoved him in my arms the night of the fire, it was you, who ordered me to always watch out for him, to take care of him. So, no, unless Sam wants to go to Stanford, he will not stand alone, whether you like it, or not!” the green eyed man stated, determination filling his voice.

 

“Mind your tone boy, because my patience has its limits!” “Oh yeah? Great, come on, punch me like you did with my brother, or is it that you know I won't-” “Dean, your brother has made many mistakes; he has dragged you down to a path, which you shouldn’t follow.” John said, and Dean’s face frowned. “Are you listening to yourself?” He questioned, waving his hands.

 

 

“Is Sam, the one who has made mistakes? He is seventeen, and he has been following me his entire life! So, if you want to blame someone, blame me, not him!” Dean continued. “And no matter what… mistakes you think he has made, no matter what path you think he has dragged me down to, you have no fucking right to hit him like you just did!” “Dean, listen-” “Why, why... Why dad, why did you do it this time?” the young man asked, eyes filled with sadness.

 

John stood still for a few moments, eyes widening, as they watched his firstborn stand his ground, defending his brother as though he was some kind of saint. ‘Part of what happened between us is your fault…’ John heard Sam’s words in his head loud and clear. And he could now understand he was right. It was him, who had trusted Sam to Dean, it was him, who had left them alone, with nothing, and no one else, to talk to, to love, to care for.

 

The image of Mary was fading from Dean’s memory and Sam had never come to know her. They were both fighting for her memory, but even if they were to finally get revenge, she would still be dead. His sons were alive however, alive, so very alive, and John always thought they were close to him. And they sure were, especially Dean. Problem was, he was the one who had left them, years ago.

 

He had closed the door, and had left, leaving a young child with his baby brother, in a motel room. And John was feeling like he reopened that door for the first time now, after all those years. The young boys were now men, trying to take responsibilities which didn’t belong to them, on their shoulders. He should have been there, he should have known sooner… And he sure shouldn't have hit his son...

 

“Dad! I won’t ask again, what the hell, what, made you hit my brother this time?” John hissed at the tone his son used, a tone strict and hard, which brought him back to the present. “What dad? Were you drunk? Did Sam offend you somehow? Did he say something he shouldn’t have? Or were you angry with him?” Dean yelled yet again, and John snapped.

 

“Well, I had my reasons! Obvious reasons, which you should understand if you would stop acting as though he is some chick, stop acting as though you two are…” “Are what? Stop acting like what? Like a pissed off guy, who saw his brother falling down on his knees by your hand?” Dean yelled, doing something he had never done before. He threw his hand forwards, like a rifle, punching John hard on the face. 

 

Because he hadn’t been able to do it, in his dream, three days ago. But this wasn’t a dream. And, If John was pissed, then so was Dean. The green eyed man knew that Sam was far from weak, no, he was strong, well trained and smart. But he was also, always, and above all else, his little brother. And no one was allowed to mess with him, for they were messing with Dean as well.

 

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” John yelled, eyes filled with rage. “You had this coming, I had told you, I had promised you this would happen dad. And you made me do it!” Dean replied, voice equally loud, but hurt, for he didn’t want to harm his father. “You can’t just hit my brother like that and answer to no one about it!” He continued and John was stoned.

 

“The only reason I haven’t shoved him in a car yet, dad, is because I am not as stupid as you might think.” Dean stated, eyes narrowing.  
“I know that no one bothers us, because you cover our tracks, I also know that I don’t have enough money to keep him fed until he leaves for Stamford, but, for the love of God… If you hit him again, I will take him and we’ll leave dad.” Dean continued, voice steady.

 

“It’s your choice dad, like everything else you’ve done until now. What are you going to do?” Dean rasped, eyes fixed on John, who was on the verge of losing whatever was left of his family, forever. The older man could only stare at Dean. No matter how many times Sam had told him that this would happen, John didn’t believe him. But now, something was aching deep inside him, as he watched his first born, asking him the same question. 

 

 

‘Can you lose him? Dean, who would die for you? Dean, who loves you, you dad, more than himself?’ Sam’s words echoed inside John’s head. He gazed at his son and saw pain painted over his face. Could he really let them go? Because Dean was serious, even though John knew, that a piece of his son would stay behind with him, if they were to leave for real. But how could he manage to stop their affair and keep Dean by his side?

 

 

And then, it hit him, like a thunder, there was a way to stop them from being together without losing them. Well, without losing Dean at least. The solution was there, and he was holding the key to it. Dean wouldn’t have to know, he had made a mistake, a mistake John couldn’t forgive, but in the end, he found himself unable to do otherwise. He had his share of responsibility for this situation, as Sam had stated, that, he knew for sure.

 

Thus, the least he could do, was to save one of the boys from the pain of his initial plan, which was to break them up and send one of them to stay with Caleb and the other to stay with Pastor Jim for a while. No, Dean would be staying with him. Sam however, would have to leave for Stanford earlier than he had planed. Besides, he wanted to get out of that life. “So be it, let him go…” John thought to himself. “Let him go, after taking all the blame, for his break up with Dean.” His subconscious added. He started it, he should be the one to end it. Yes, this was a good solution. 

 

“Dean…” John said after a while, fixing his eyes, on the ones of his son. “You’re overreacting… But you’re right, I shouldn’t have done what I did, none of those times.” “Little late for an apology, don’t you think?” Dean answered, voice cold. “Better late than-” “If you ever, lay a hand on him again…” “I won’t Dean, I won’t, I was tired, and Sam mentioned Stanford, Bobby, so at some point I lost it-” “You hurt him pretty bad, and this isn’t a good enough excuse!” “Well, that’s all you’re getting Dean, because that’s the truth!” John exclaimed.

 

Dean let out a long frustrated sigh, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Fine… But know that this isn’t over. Remember what I told you, dad. Touch him again and the very next day, not even you, will know where to find us.” He rasped, turning his back on his father, heading towards the house.

 

“Now if you have no objection, I’m going to help my brother clean the blood from his face.” Shot the middle Winchester. “Dean, tell Sam… That I’m sorry about what happened, and that he was right. I’ll talk to him later, I have to go to the town now, we need supplies.” “Supplies? It’s early, where are you going to-” “Don’t worry, I know where I have to go. Now, get inside and go check on Sam…” John said, voice low. “What do you mean he was right?” “He was right when he said, that he should go to Stamford. Tell him he will.” John muttered, gazing at Dean.

 

“Alright… In any case, dad, I am… I’m glad you’re safe and…” But Dean said nothing more, for he nodded his father goodbye with his hand instead. Dean headed towards the house and once he was inside John spoke, words which were swallowed by the wind, left his lips. “I’m sorry as well Dean, but this is the only way. One day, you will understand son. One day, you will understand...” He muttered to the, now, empty, yard.

 

He then started the Impala and headed towards the town. He wanted to give the boys some time, and he needed time as well, to better think of a way to make Sam agree with what he would propose him later, that day….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This the end of chapter 17! Next chapter, if anyone is interested, will be posted on 27 of August! Hope you are all healthy and happy! Comments and kudos, are like ice cream!


	18. The power of Words: The words of the First Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and John make a Deal... The First Deal Sam would make in order to protect Dean...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to you all! I know, I know I haven't updated in a month, but I got a job plus my studies, so I didn't have time... Sorryyyyyyyy :-(
> 
> Anyway, about the chapter: It is long, but I had to remove many parts in order for the plot to move on, and it was hard to write it as a whole. That happened because, I wanted to make the readers understand my point, which is that John may seem mean because he wants to break Sam and Dean up, but he is just trying to do what he things best for them. 
> 
>  
> 
> I really tried to get that point accross, but I have no freaking idea if the chapter is what you'd hoped for. I'm sorry if it's not, I really don't want to let you down!!!!!!
> 
> Also, if you remember, in the pilot, Dean tells to Sam that he hasn't bothered him for two years, not even by calling him, because Sam wouldn't pick up the phone. In this chapter you get to see my explanation of why that was said...
> 
> Anyhow, I've said enough... Once again, sorry about this absurd dely, I promise I will not do it again! I hope you all will enjoy the chapter! Thank you for putting up with me, and my OOC story, which has various spelling mistakes... Which i will edit, I promise you!  
> Please do not kill me for those, for I am not a native speaker and have a mild case of dyslexia, so I can not memorise spelling....
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for your support, comments, kudos, pms and of course for reading this!!  
> Hope you all enjoy!!!

THEN  
Dean headed towards the house and once he was inside John spoke, words which were swallowed by the wind leaving his lips. “I’m sorry Dean, but this is the only way. One day, you will understand son. One day, you will understand.” He muttered to the, now, empty, yard.

 

He then started the Impala and headed towards the town. He wanted to give the boys some time, and he needed time as well, to better think of a way to make Sam agree to what he would propose him later, that day…. 

 

NOW

The first thing Dean heard when he entered the house, was a soft, weak whimper, which belonged to no one else but Sam, who was biting his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood as Bobby tried to clean his wounds. Hazel eyes snapped open at the low, hurt tone, which Dean used, to call out to him. “Oh Sam...” he whispered, but before the last syllable was out of his lips the young man got up from the chair Bobby had sat him on, and took several steps backwards. “Woa, easy Sam, easy-” Dean tried to say but the younger man wouldn't have that. “What did he say to you? And why are your knuckles bleeding? Did he hit you? Did he mess you up again? Dean, tell me what did he say!” Sam said with a voice which he intended to make sound demanding,but in the end, it was nothing more, than a weak plea.

 

His eyes were watery, and shining with unshed tears, for he was sure their father had told Dean everything, and had made him choose. That was why Dean had come back inside while John had took off yet again, yes, to give them some time to pick up their stuff and leave the house before he got back. Dean would have to lose yet another parent... “Sam, take it easy, let me clean you up-” “I don't need a freaking nurse Dean, all I need is an answer-” “Bobby, would you mind giving us some time alone?” Dean asked, cutting Sam off, but placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him sat on the chair. The older man nodded in approval and turned around leaving the room.

 

“Dean just-” “Sam, Sammy, Jesus stop it, alright?” Dean urged, his hands ghosting over Sam's face. “I said, tell me, what happened, I have the right to know.” Sam rasped, blood dripping down his chin as he spoke. Dean sighed in defeat, kneeling in front of Sam's chair, so as to be at the same level as his brother. “For starters, he said that he was sorry, about what he did to you.” Dean murmured, face twitching at the sound of his own words. “Did... he say why he did it?” The younger man dared to ask.

 

Dean fixed his eyes on Sam's and the younger man felt as though his brother could see right through him, right through his lie. “He said that he was tired, and that you spoke about Bobby and about Stanford...” Sam was sure Dean said more, but he could hear nothing else, for his brain had shut down. Sam's eyes blurred and he let his head fall backwards, fixing his eyes on the roof. His father had not spoken to Dean, that must be some kind of miracle. “But it's not enough of an excuse, for what he did, not even close!” Dean snapped, the sharp tone of his voice bringing Sam back to the present.

 

“You told him that?” the young man asked, lips quivering. “Yes, Sam, I did, but all he answered back, was that, what he had said to me, was the truth.” Dean replied, grabbing the leg of the chair with his hands to hide their shaking. “Why Dean-” “Because he is your father, our father, and he is not allowed to lay a hand on you!” Dean yelled and Sam flinched at the sound of his brother's voice. “I made my point quite clear, by the way.” he continued a few moments later, casting a glimpse on his slightly bloodied knuckles of his right hand. “You... You punched him?” Sam uttered becoming even more paler as he spoke. “I am a man who doesn't go back on a promise Sam.” Dean replied calmly, holding his brother still.

 

“Dean what have you-” “What I had to, Sam and before you say that I 'chose a side because of this', let me remind you that this is what happens to whoever lays a hand on you.” Dean declared, fixing his eyes on him. Such was their depth, that Sam could swear they could swallow him whole. Silence filled the room after those words were spoken, for neither Sam, nor Dean, could bring themselves to utter another word. Strong, callused hands traveled upwards, from Sam's belly to his neck, caressing tenderly his sweated skin along the way, stopping right above his heart, feeling its erratic beat. “Dean...” Sam whispered, shivering slightly. 

 

“Tell me what else did he to you. I can tell, that there is more.” Dean's face frowned for a second, but the next moment his dry lips turned into a sad smile. Sam could always read him like an open book, and this time was no exception. “He said... That you will be going to Stanford.” Dean finally muttered, leaving the rest of his father's comments to the side. He then, lifted his eyes, expecting to see joy building up in his brother's face. But when their eyes met, Dean felt a shiver running down his spine. 

 

“Sam?” he rasped, hands on both sides of Sam's swollen face in less than a heartbeat. “Sam!” Dean said again, louder this time, making the younger man jerk under his touch. Sam hissed as he felt rough hands on his face, but his mind was lost on what Dean had mentioned a minute ago. His father wanted him to go to Stanford? Now, of all times, had he decided that he was okay with Sam's wish to leave behind hunting? No, there was more to this, but the young man could not move pass the mist which was clouding his mind right then. Thus, he swallowed hard, returning his gaze on Dean, who was still trying to get his attention.

 

“Sorry... I just... got dizzy for a moment, Dean, I'm sorry, let me-” “No, no, we've said enough Sam, now let me clean you up.” Dean said, voice low. “Dean I can do it on my own.” “I know you can Sammy, I know you can, but you don't have to prove it right now...” Dean whispered, voice fainting towards the end of the sentence. And as the middle Winchester blinked, the weariness in his eyes was pushed aside, and was replaced by sadness and need. “Okay... Okay Dean.” Sam said, giving in, to Dean's unspoken request.

 

The young man knew that his father had a reason to say such a thing, but he honestly, couldn't care less at that moment. His head was pounding, he could feel his blood running hot, like fire, burning his skin, and his wrist was hurting like it had been broken. So Sam, let Dean lead him on the couch and, once again, let himself surrender to his tender touches, like a young child surrenders and relaxes when placed in the arms of his mother. With his hazel eyes half- closed, Sam caught various glimpses of Dean through his long eyelids.

 

Dean's expression remained stoic and professional, and his hands steady, as they cleaned Sam's face from the thin lines of blood and dirt. His touch was light throughout it all, and yet, Sam could not stop himself from hissing a couple of times. When the older hunter was done, he let out a sigh of relief, for the worst part, was over.“Hey, you feeling alright?” Dean questioned and Sam nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, I just... feel hot, that's all.” He replied, but before he could utter another word, Dean's lips were pressed to his forehead, making the young man whine at the gesture, yet shiver from it as well. 

 

“No, you don't have a fever, you're just stressed and edgy, that's why you're feeling that you're burning up.” He stated, his lips turning into a smile. “Thanks mister 'I-Know-Everything!' Sam teased weakly, but a part of his mind knew that there was nothing he should be teasing about this, for his brother had been a mother, a father, a best friend, and ever since last year a lover for him. “Now, let's look at that hand of yours.” However, to Dean's surprise, the younger man refused to bring his hand between them. 

 

“Hey, hey hey, easy, let me look Sam!” Dean demanded, but the younger man hid his wrist from Dean's sight. “It's fine, or at least it will be, so you don't have to see anything.” Sam said, voice pinched and unsteady. “What? Cut the crap Sam, this could be bad, now let me see it!” Dean said, leaving no room for an argument.

 

Sam hissed in pain yet again, but he finally did as he was told. As he watched Dean's face twitching and frowning deeply, his hazel eyes began to water yet again, despite his best efforts to stop them from doing so. “Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed loudly, his stoic expression disappearing from his face in a heartbeat. His breath got caught in his throat as his eyes took in the shape of his brother's wrist. “I'm sorry.” Dean heard a muffled sound coming out of Sam's lips and the middle Winchester turned his gaze back on him, cursing silently for his stupidity. “I'm sorry... I'll do it myself, you don't-” But Sam's broken words went unheard, for Dean raised up his voice.

 

“I've said this before, and I'll say it again, and again, as many times as I have to, so that you can understand it. This isn't your fault Sam. It's not you I'm angry with, little brother.” Dean said, but little did that declaration helped ease the tightness on Sam's chest. “Sam, this... From what I can tell, your wrist is badly sprained, to say the least.” The green eyed man said after observing the abused flesh for a long moment. “I'll put some ice on it and wrap it with a gauze, but we may need to-” But the younger man cut him off.

 

“I'll be just fine, no hospitals.” Sam snapped all of a sudden, eyes opening wide, staring beseechingly at Dean. “Alright, fine, but if by nightfall, you are in more pain than you are now, because I know you are in pain, we will go to a hospital.” Dean declared, barely holding back the urge to scream and break every piece of furniture down. Rage was running through his veins, hot like fire and at the same time cold as ice, making the green eyed man see red all around him.

 

But he pushed aside his rage and resumed his task, for he had to helphis brother out. “Rest up a little bit, yeah?” Dean coaxed, after he was finally done, his voice low and calmer than he thought it would sound. He placed a kiss on the top of Sam's head and left his side to go wash the tools he had used. Ten minutes later he was back, but Sam was already fast asleep, curled into a ball, his hand stretched out seeking something, or someone, that wasn't there.

 

The older hunter wanted to sit by his brother's side, but his body was so tense and restless that he was sure he would end up waking Sam up. Thus, he cast one last glance over his shoulder to Sam's sleeping figure and stormed outside of the house, heading towards the small cabin. He needed to distract himself and the only possible way to do that, was to keep his mind as well as his hands busy. He started working on Bobby's car once again, for that crippled vehicle was the only thing standing between Dean and his urge to find his father and take his anger out on him. And so, almost half an hour went by. But John, was nowhere to be seen. 

 

Sam was awoken from his restless sleep at the sound of the 67' Impala been turned off. His mind was still hazy and he had a feeling that all the events which had occurred had been nothing more than a nasty dream. His thoughts went crashing down however, when he bothered to look at his abused hand, which Dean had so tenderly tried to fix. His eyes flickered around the room in search of his brother, but when all Sam came across were books and weapons, he returned his gaze back on his hand. The young man got lost in his thoughts, but was soon brought back to the present as the front door opened wide. For a split second, Sam hoped beyond hope, that the one standing at the doorstep would be Dean. 

 

But to his unpleasant surprise it was John's tall figure that shadowed the hallway as well as the staircase. “Dad...” Sam, who was still curled to a ball on the couch, knees up touching his chin, uttered, looking at the older man. “Seems like your brother played the role of the nurse quite well.” John replied coolly, his eyes falling on Sam. “You didn't tell him... That you saw us together.” He dared to say, wanting to get to the main point without further delay. He could no longer fight the doubts and the 'what ifs' which were haunting his dreams and his mind. So let it be over with. John remained still and tore his eyes away from his son. 

 

 

“So...” Sam muttered, voice meek and pleading, “Does that mean, you will think about me and Dean? That you will think about letting us-” “No, don't get what I've done wrong Sam.” John interjected, not wanting to hear the next words his son would speak. “I haven't talked to your brother, because this is something you started, as you pointed out many times. Thus, you will finish it.” The older Winchester continued and saw hazel eyes watering yet again. He opened his mouth, to further elaborate on his plan, but before he could speak another syllable, Dean soundly walked inside the room, eyes burning with rage.

 

 

“You found your supplies sir?” He asked, voice filled with irony. “What supplies?” John questioned, remembering his lie after he had spoken the last word. “Isn't that the reason you left, right after beating the crap out of my brother?” “Dean I told you-” “Yeah, that you were sorry, well, it's not me you should apologize to!” The green eyed man yelled, waving his hands, eyes falling on Sam, who was still sitting on the couch. “It's alright Dean, it was my fault too, so...” But Sam's quivering voice trailed off and John grabbed the chance, speaking up.

 

“Dean, I said I'm sorry and I am, but now I want you to go to the police department and find serif Jody Mills, ask her some questions about-” But John could speak no more, for Dean's voice echoed, strong and sure, covering his own. “No, whatever it is you want me to do, I'll do it later.” The phrase was simple and short, yet echoed loud and clear inside the room. 'I'm not leaving you alone with my brother.' That was what Sam could easily read behind Dean's answer. The tension between all three of the Winchesters could as well be cut with a knife, thus, Sam took over. “Dean, this is stupid man, go and do what dad tells you to.” He half-heartily encouraged, but Dean remained at the exact same spot. 

 

John flicked his eyes between Sam and Dean, but said nothing more, albeit he wanted to get things done. Instead of staying and try to win the argument, he walked out the room, knowing that Dean had unknowingly, just delaying the inevitable. The same scene repeated itself several times during the day, and the only thing which seemed to change, was the background, and the positions Sam, Dean and John were at. Each and every time John would try to get to speak to Sam alone, Dean would step in, finding some kind of excuse in order for John to back off. 

 

With an aching pain, Sam, at some point during lunch, realized that he was just hiding behind Dean's excuses, refusing to face his father. And though he knew that the time would soon come, when he and John would have to talk, he was glad that without knowing it, his brother was buying them time. Another ten minutes, meant a warm look. Another hour, meant another soft caress when no one was looking. Yet another hour, one more fast, yet tender kiss, which was nothing more, than a momentarily touch of Sam's and Dean's lips... 

 

And so, the hours passed by, one, followed by the next and the next, until dusk came and was almost gone. That was the time, when Dean announced to his brother he would be taking a shower. “I won't be long Sammy, fifteen minutes tops, okay?” he muttered, getting up from his chair. His gaze fell on the now dark front yard, in which Bobby and John were at, digging a hole to burn some old stuff Bobby wanted to get rid of. 

 

Once Dean was sure none of the men had their eyes on them, he turned his gaze on Sam, kissing the top of his head. “Such a girl Dean!” Sam teased, and could only stare, as his brother climbed up the staircase, disappearing inside their room, right after mouthing 'Yeah, right, you love me!' to Sam. The younger man smiled sadly, and only when he heard the door of their room close, did he whispered “I love you Dean.” He then got up, heading towards the front yard. He was sick and tired of playing hide and seek with his father. 

 

“Well, look who's here...” John said, voice rather cold. Sam's face looked pale under the dim light of the lamps which were near the house and his expression, one of utter guilt and sadness, make it look, even more peculiar. “Dad... you wanted to talk to me, am I right?” Sam uttered, eyes flicking to Bobby, who had moved and was now standing behind Sam. “Right... Bobby go inside.” John half- commanded, half-asked. “No, because last time you two were left alone-” “I'm sorry about this morning.” John said making Sam choke out an ironic laughter. At the sound of it, John's blood began to boil, but he took in a breath and spoke again, maintaining his voice steady as he did so.

 

“Go Bobby, I have to talk to Sam... Alone.” He repeated, and Bobby could do nothing more but obey. As much as he had wished for it, Sam and Dean were not his sons. “Bobby... ” Sam said and the man froze. “Yes, Sam?” “Remember what I asked of you this morning.” He uttered. The older man nodded his head and got back inside the house. “So... Want to tell me what is it, that you have in mind?” Sam asked, getting straight to the point. “What do you mean?” John questioned, but Sam wasn't in the mood for games.

 

“You've been trying to talk to me all day dad, so here I am, now, tell me what is it that you want me to do, so that you will not talk to my brother about what you saw.” Sam said, voice steady, eyes hard. “First of all Sam, you have to know that what I do, I do it for the both of you. This... relationship you two have, it can't continue. So, here is what is going to happen.” John said, voice eerie calm. “I will not talk to Dean about what I saw, at least not for the time being. I'm willing to overlook what you have been doing, what Dean, has been doing. But only if you play along and do as I say.” The elder Winchester said, and Sam could only nod his head in agreement. He would do anything for Dean. 

 

 

“Tomorrow morning, we will hit the road Sam.” John began to explain, leaving no room for an argument. “For the next two weeks we will stay in Minnesota, and you will attend classes there.” He continued, voice steady. “Right after that period is over, we will come back here, and you will make sure, that your brother understands, that whatever it was, you two have shared, has come to an end.” He said and Sam's breath got caught up in his throat. He nodded in approval nevertheless, knowing that he had no other choice.

 

“I give you two weeks, to find some kind of girlfriend, so that Dean will have no doubt that you two are-” “Yes, I understand that dad...” Sam interjected, not wanting to hear that he and Dean would have to break up again. “Once you have broken up, you will stay that way, until the time when you will have to leave for Stanford.” John continued and Sam's face paled even more. “But, dad by the time we will return here, it will be April and I will leave for Stanford-” “By the end of the first week of September, you will be gone Sam.” John rasped, gazing at his son. “What the... That's earlier than I was planning, it's almost one month prior to when I wanted to leave!” Sam cried, anger building up in his voice.

 

“Why the face Sam? Isn't that what you have always wanted? To leave this life behind you and go to some fancy college? So, here's your chance.” John stated, crossing his hands over his chest. Sam let out a long, frustrated sigh, and pressed his left hand on his face. “Oh, and Sam...” John pointed out, fixing his eyes on his son. “Once you're gone, you will stay gone, do you understand?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

 

 

“Excuse me? What's that suppose to mean?” Sam asked, jaw twitching. “It means that as soon as you walk out the door of the room we will be renting, you will walk out of Dean's life as well.” John declared, but saw an expression of utter confusion painted on Sam's face. “You will not call him, you will not text him and you will not pick up the phone, should he call you. If you need help with something supernatural, you will call me, and nobody else, is that clear?” John asked, grabbing Sam by the shoulder, to be able to see his face. Twisted with pain was Sam's face when John laid eyes on it, twisted as though a blade had just been pushed into Sam's heart.

 

“You're... You're asking me to... To get him out of my life? To pull away from him? To treat him like a trash?” Sam managed to ask, voice quivering more with every word. “No, I'm not asking you to do any of those things, I'm demanding that you will let your brother pick up his pieces and that you will give him time to move on. That's why you will not be in touch with him.” John stated, voice cold, eyes narrowing. 

 

“But... But he is my brother! This will not change just because I'll be gone to Stanford-” “Sam, hunting is a way of life. If you truly want to leave this life behind you, then you have to-” “What dad, what? Forget Dean, forget that I have a brother? Forget what he means to me, or all the things he has done for me, just like you forget everything he has ever done for you?” Sam yelled, voice filled with anguish. The young man knew he was repeating his own words, along with Dean's fears, of Sam forgetting what they had, as those words had been uttered inside Bobby's cabin, the first morning the two older hunters were gone. But he couldn't care less for this exposure, for he knew it was the truth. 

 

“This is not debatable Sam, you will leave Dean alone, and you will stay gone!” John repeated, voice hardening. “And you think that this will be good for him? That this will make him... Forget what we shared?” Sam uttered, clearly devastated. “Yes, besides, I told you that I will not allow this to continue, so you will both need some time to adjust to the changes.” John stated, making Sam want to throw up. 

 

“No, I won't do this to him.” The young man stated, eyes fixed on John. “Break up with him, fine that I will do, and I will take all the blame, but I will not abandon him as soon as I leave.” “You don't get to make demands Sam-” “I won't do this to him! I won't hurt him like that-” “Believe me, what you two had, has hurt him so much more than you would like to think!” John snapped, hand twitching. “No... No, I won't do it. Go on, and tell him that you saw us, I don't mind.” Sam said and for a second John's facade seemed to be breaking. The very next moment however, he regained control, like an experienced poker player, who had been caught off guard, and yet, still had aces up in his sleeve. 

 

“I prefer to give him a choice, I prefer that he will make whatever choice he wants, rather than treat him this way. I will not betray him like that.” Sam stated, but John didn't seem to mind his son's attitude towards him. “Oh, he won't have a choice Sam. Even if he wants to take you and leave he won't be able to. Because I'll shove you in a car and him in another, and I will make sure you two will not see each other again for a very long time. I'm sure Caleb will not have a problem to look after Dean for... Well, quite some time.” John replied calmly, gazing at Sam, whose face had turned ashen.

 

“You... You can't... Dean is an adult-” “But you are not Sam. So if by any chance Caleb messes up with the police and they find out Dean is not his son, he will have to tell them, to explain to them, that I, his father had send him there, so that he wouldn't be so close to his younger brother...” John stated and Sam's eyes blurred with tears. John would never do what he was threatening to, that he knew for sure. He loved both of his sons, and he didn't want them to suffer more than they already had. But he had to make Sam agree to his plan, by all means necessary. This had to stop. He was the one who had to make sure of that. 

 

“I can, Sam, and I will do it, if you make me. It's all on you Sam, it's your choice, what are you going to do?” John asked, knowing he had won the battle. “Even if I do what you say, even if I push Dean out of my life, do you think he will not come to know the truth at some point?” Sam uttered, playing his last card, as he too, could now understand, that the game was lost. “Oh, he will, I suppose. And he will be angry and hurt, and he will want to storm out of the house... But by the time he will learn the truth, you will be long gone, and what you two had, would be nothing more, than a memory.” John said, lowering his voice. 

 

 

Sam swallowed soundly, shaking his head in denial, as every fiber in his body was putting up a fight against that one word, which was on the tip of Sam's tongue. “If I do this, you will promise me you will change the way you do things.” Sam said, teary eyes, staring at his father. “What is that suppose to-” “When I'm gone, and even before that, you will make sure that you show Dean more respect and love. I know you do love us, but you will have to make sure my brother knows it too. You will treat him like an equal partner when you two will be out for hunting-” “Sam this is stupid-” But Sam wouldn't let his father stop him.

 

 

“You will give him the chance to do other things except hunting, and you will make sure he isn't just following you around, but that he stands on his own feet. Meaning that, he has his own connections with other hunters and that he is your son and not your soldier.” Sam declared, and John stood still for a second. 'Love has to be earned, they are your sons, not soldiers...' Bobby had pointed out, and as it seemed, he was right. “Alright, but in two weeks you will finish everything, and once you're gone, you will stay gone.” John repeated, and Sam sighed.

 

“So, do we have a deal?” John asked, offering his hand to Sam. Little did the young Winchester knew back then, but the list of the Deals he would make in his life, wouldn't be short. Deals with witches, with Angels and Demons he would make, and most of them, if not all of them, would be for the one person he would always love the most. His brother, Dean. But the very first one of them, would be different. Here, there was no witch, no Angel, no Devil, but his own father...

 

 

So it was, that Sam lifted his eyes to meet the ones of his father, and stretched out his hand. In order to protect Dean, and not rob him of his parent, of yet another parent, Sam was about to make with his dad, what he would later remember as, The first Deal. A deal, which would cost him the most important thing he had, his relationship with Dean. But there was a part in Sam, which somehow knew, that no matter what was about to happen, he and Dean, no matter the choices they would made, the details they would alter, they would always end up... Together.

“Deal dad. Deal.” Sam said, taking a hold of his father's hand. 

Thus, the Witch's prophecy was indeed fulfilled...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end of chapter 18. Rest assured, The two weeks the boys have left, will not be narrated, so the plot will movw on faster. (Unless you want something special that is. If so, do not hesitate to ask me and I will adapt it in the storyline if it's possible!) Thank you all yet again for your time, please leave a comment if you can, cause I have no Idea what to think of this chapter...  
> Hope that you liked it!!  
> I can't promise for sure when next chapter will be posted, but it won't be long!!
> 
> Love you all!


	19. The tears that just fall in the dust...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is devastated from the weight of the Deal he has made with his father, while John struggles with himself, not knowing if the course he has chosen is the right one... And Then there is Dean, who is torn between his love for his brother and his devotion towards his father...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! I managed to update earlier this time! Thank you all, as always, for all your support! Hope you enjoy the story!   
> Warning: Some of you told me that you cried while reading the previous chapter. (Once again, sorry about that!) Well, this chapter, made me cry, while I was writing it, so you may need to prepare yourself...  
> I don't know, if you will be as touched, but I have to warn you nonetheless!
> 
> Thanks again, Hope you enjoy!  
> So, off we go!!

THEN

 

“No, I won't do this to him, I won't betray him like that!” The younger man replied. “You will Sam, because if you don't, I'll shove you in a car and him in another, and I will make sure you two will not see each other again for a very long time. I'm sure Caleb will not have a problem to look after Dean for... Well, quite some time. So, do we have a deal?” John asked, offering his hand to Sam.

“Deal dad. Deal.” Sam said, taking a hold of his father's hand. 

Thus, the witch's prophecy was indeed, fulfilled.... 

NOW

 

Father and son stayed still for a few moments, and John could feel Sam's hand trembling within his grasp. His keen eyes scanned his son's face, but for the first time in a while, were not able to read it. Sam's hazel eyes were still tear filled, but to his credit, the young man wouldn't let his tears fall. He had once again hardened his facial expression, refusing to let his father see him break down right then.

 

 

“You're doing the right thing Sam. You will understand your mistake soon enough.” John declared triumphantly, unable to hide the satisfaction from filling his voice. “Just remember, I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for Dean, and only because you gave me no other choice.” Sam replied angrily, freeing his hand from his father's hold. “Even so, this doesn't change the fact that you're doing the right thing, even if it's the hardest to be done.” John repeated, turning his gaze towards the house. “It will turn out alright, you'll see. It's for the best that you two, will stop this... relationship, now.” He continued, his words becoming one with the wind.

 

 

A gentle breeze was blowing right then, and Sam let it caress his face, let it mess his brown locks up, let it curl around his long fingers and surround them. The breeze kept blowing, moving the clouds to the South, exposing the ebony sky, which was lighted up, by the countless bright stars as well as the moon, which by that point, was a slice of silver, wandering up above the endless skies, looking down at Men, silently watching them... 

 

 

Sam's hazel orbs opened wide at the picture, which was so magnificently hovering above his head. Clearing his throat, he spoke, never taking his eyes off the sky. “Is this what makes you sleep at night dad? Is this the mantra which keeps you going? That 'it will eventually turn out alright?'” Sam asked and heard John gasping at the sound of the words. 

 

 

“They say that, If you keep saying something, if you repeat a phrase over and over inside your head, you may believe it to be true, even if deep down you know, that it is very far from the truth.” Sam continued, voice eerie low. But I will not do this dad. I will not tell myself that everything will somehow turn out alright, because they will not.” “Enough, I've heard enough Sam-” We are not the ones making a mistake here dad. The relationship we have, may be a lot of things, but it is not a mistake. Nor it will ever be one, no matter what happens.” Sam said as he turned around to face his father. 

 

 

“You're the one making a mistake.” Sam uttered, fixing his gaze on the back of his father, who had started to walk towards the house. “You're making, yet, another mistake.” He continued, voice thick with emotion, filled with bitterness. John stopped dead-in-his tracks at the sound of those words, but did not turn around to face his son. “If you keep saying that son, if you keep repeating that phrase over and over inside your head, you may believe it to be true, even if deep down you know it is very far from the truth.” John muttered through clenched teeth. 

 

 

“But I will not believe this declaration Sam.” He continued, using Sam's own words against him in an attempt to show him that no matter what Sam could come up with, it still wouldn't be enough to undo the Deal they had made, a Deal Sam had already regretted. “You may believe it yourself son, that what you and Dean had, was not a mistake, but I will not believe it.” The older Winchester repeated, and Sam's breath was caught in his throat. “I'm doing what's best for you, now stop acting like a girl and like an actress in a soap-opera and prepare to do what you have to.” John ordered.

 

 

“Alright, alright dad, I will keep my word. Starting tomorrow, I will-” “You will honor your part of the deal Sam, but you will start tonight. As soon as your brother comes out of the shower, you will tell him you need some time alone.” “Dad, for the love of God-” “I'll be watching you Sam. One wrong move, or sign which will give away your act and I will make sure Caleb comes here first thing in the morning!” John yelled, as he walked away, leaving Sam alone in the yard. 

 

 

No sooner had John disappeared behind the front door, that Sam's knees went rigid. The young man hissed, but somehow, managed to take a few wobbly steps to the side, and reach the door of Bobby's cabin. Only then, did Sam let himself collapse, falling on the ground hard, leaning his back on the old wooden door, while furling his long legs, to the point where he could rest his chin on his knees.

 

 

Much like when he had fled from the small apartment they had been renting, back then, while it was raining, Sam could once again, feel nothing. Neither the cold ground underneath him, nor the screechy surface of the door on which his back was leaning. Because, once again, Sam was overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. Every fiber of his being was protesting, and the young man could hear his own voice screaming inside his head, loud and clear, that he was a scum and a traitor, a coward and an unworthy brother... And by God, Sam was certain he was all those things and a lot more...

 

 

Tears welled up in Sam's hazel orbs and the young man inhaled deeply, knowing that as soon as he would exhale, his tears would fall, and he would be left at their mercy, but it didn't matter, for he needed to break down right then, if he wanted to be able to lie to his brother later. The mere thought made Sam's stomach flip, and the young man could only cover his mouth with his palm to stop himself from vomiting. 

 

 

He swallowed hard, once, twice, and then a third time, managing to suppress the sudden urge. He lifted up his eyes, finding some comfort at the massive number of stars which were shining, up above his head. Maybe, just maybe, Mary was one of them, and was watching him, sitting there alone, bound to his grief. This time, as the image of his mother passed before his blurred eyes, Sam gave in and let the tears fall. Little did he want to put up a fight to stop them after all. 

 

 

 

Strong sobs emerged, from the depths of Sam's body, from the depths of his very soul. He bit his bottom lip hard to muffle the sounds coming out of him and hugged his knees with his hands, while driving his nails deep into the skin of his hips. His sternum was aching, but the only thing the young hunter could do, was to inhale deeply, one breath followed by the next and then the next. And every time cold air would enter his system, a hot wave of tears would run down his face, damping his shirt, as well as his jeans with salty water. 

 

 

The young man lost track of how long he had sat there, while sobbing silently.  
All Sam knew, was that his tears were burning him like fire, a fire he welcomed, for as the hour grew late, so did the chill which was slowly, but surely, spreading over the houses of Sioux Falls, marking the coming of yet another night. The last night he would spend in Dean's embrace. By that point, Sam's sobs seemed to be easing, but as The thought of his brother popped into his head, tears streamed anew from his already red rimmed eyes. “I'm sorry... Dean, I'm sorry...”

 

 

Meanwhile, back inside the house...

 

“What did you tell him?” Bobby asked John, as soon as the latter had closed the door behind him. “What I had to, to ensure that what those two have, will come to an end.” John replied calmly, his eyes never leaving the window, from which he could see Sam's figure. “John... I know it's hard to wrap your head around all this-” “No, no Bobby, you were lying to me for a whole year, so now you don't get to talk! You should have told me!” John said, raising his voice.

 

 

“Well, maybe that's why I never said a thing! Because I knew that you would overreact, and that-” “Overreact? If it slipped your mind, I just learned that my sons are having a...” But John's hoarse voice trailed off, for the elder Winchester was unable to even form the words he had to. His hands fell to his side and he took several steps backwards, leaning his back on the nearest wall. “I know what you're trying to say Bobby. That I should give it more time to sink in, that I own them as much as a chance to find some measure of happiness.” The hunter uttered, pressing his hand on his face.

 

 

Bobby drew in a breath, completely taken aback, by the sudden emotional breakdown of his friend. “Maybe you're right, maybe Sam's right as well. But I can't Bobby. I've destroyed them once, I'm not going to do it again.” He continued, voice nothing more than a broken whisper, filled with guilt and bitterness. “John, listen to me-” “No, you will listen to me Bobby. I won't let this continue, whether you like it, or not. I will not let them doom themselves. As for what I said to Sam, you will know soon enough.” John stated, reclaiming his self control.

 

 

Bobby's keen eyes caught a glimpse of the yard and spotted Sam, curled on a ball, body shaking violently. “You think you're protecting them John, that you're saving them from the unbearable pain which will come down upon them, as soon as they realize what is it that they have been doing... And maybe you are...” Bobby uttered, flicking his eyes between John's usually tall, but now hunched from guilt figure, and Sam's furled, shaking one. “I can't help but wander however... Do you really save them from the pain, or, are you inflicting it instead?” Bobby whispered, his voice fading at the end. And if he wanted to be honest, Bobby had to admit, that he, himself, did not know the answer to the question he had asked. 

 

 

John held Bobby's gaze for a long moment, and sighed waving his head. “I don't know Bobby, I don't know. All I know is, that I'll be damned, if I don't stop this now and at least give them the chance to move on and find some normal relationship, so that they will understand what they've been doing.” John replied, moving towards the small living room and away from the kitchen and the window from which Sam could be seen.

 

 

The two men sat down on the chairs, near the old wooden desk and remained silent for a long while, each one lost in his own thoughts, until they heard footsteps climbing down the stairs. Bobby's eyes widened at the realization that they had completely forgotten Dean, who was taking a shower. 'I need you to take care of him, promise me Bobby!' Sam's pleading words echoed inside his head, but even if Bobby wanted to talk to Dean, about what had happened, he had nothing to say. He didn't know the deal between father and son, thus, he couldn't actually help him, or warn him about anything.

 

 

And maybe John was right, maybe this needed to stop, at least for a while. “Dean, you're done with the bathroom?” John asked casually, as though nothing had happened ever since the green eyed hunter had withdrawn upstairs. “Yeah, I'm done, why?” “Because we will be leaving here tomorrow morning, so you should go to sleep.” John stated, explaining to his son that they would be heading in Minnesota. “Why stay there two weeks?” Dean questioned after his father was done talking. “Because I have work to do there, that's why, now go upstairs and get some sleep, it's past eleven.” The old man ordered, leaving no room for an argument.

 

 

Dean held his father's gaze for yet another heartbeat, but let it wander around the room after that moment had come to pass. “Where is Sam?” he asked, raising his voice. “He is...” Bobby began to say, only to be interrupted by John. “He said he needed some air, so he went outside a while ago.” John stated, voice calm, even. “Outside? Outside where-” But Dean stopped in mid-sentence as soon as his keen eyes caught a glimpse of his brother from the window. 

 

 

For a few seconds Dean stared awestruck, unable to form words. But all of a sudden he turned his head away from the sight, in a gesture which could easily be identified as one of pure disgust. Bobby got ready to speak, but Dean wouldn't let him. Faster than the wind he moved, grabbing his father by the collar of his shirt, pinning him, with his back on the wall. “What have you done to him-” “Dean, son, listen-” Bobby tried to say, but the elder Winchester spoke, voice ice-cold.

 

 

“I have done nothing Dean, and for your own good, as well as Sam's, I warn you now; You either stop treating me like that, or I'll have to make you remember who runs things in this family.” John said, freeing himself from Dean's hold. “Sam, being the oversensitive teenager he is, declared he needed some time alone right after you went upstairs. So I left him alone. Now go get him and bring him in here. As soon as you're back, you will both go upstairs and get some sleep. Starting tomorrow, we have work to do.” Dean eyed his father but said nothing more.

 

 

“This was an order Dean, now go there and get him, or I will.” John snarled, making the green eyed hunter take a few steps backwards and nod his head in agreement. “Dean, son, your father...” Here, Bobby's voice trailed off, but the old man regained his self control fast enough, so Dean missed the hesitation in his voice. “Your father... He's telling the truth, he did nothing to Sam.” “I am not your son Bobby...” Dean said as he moved towards the door. “Exactly, now go do what I tell you to Dean!” John yelled, turning around to grab his phone, which was ringing, from where he had tossed it.

 

 

“Yes? Yes Jim, we came back, why do you ask?” Both Bobby as well as Dean glanced over their shoulder at John, who was now pacing around the old desk. Bobby moved towards the door, and stretched his hand, placing it on Dean's shoulder. “Go Dean, he's been out there for a long time. But I assure you, John kept his hands to himself.” Dean sighed tiredly and momentarily tore his gaze from Sam's figure and fixed it on Bobby. 

 

 

“What is it you idgit?” “I'm not your son...” Dean repeated, and Bobby felt something break inside of him. “I'm not your son, I know as much. But sometimes... Sometimes I wish I was... Not just me, but Sammy as well.” Dean muttered and got out of the door before Bobby could even blink. “So do I Dean.” Bobby replied to the, now empty space beside him, feeling joy and pride rising up in his chest. “So do I.”

 

Back in the yard...

 

Sam's tears had run out at some point. The young man then, slowly raised his head from where he had hid it, in between his knees and run a trembling hand over his face, sighing wearily. He took a second to inhale and waited for more tears to come, but to his surprise, they didn't. Why was that? Sam wanted them, he needed them, for they were making him feel heavy, and the sobs were making his body ache and his throat burn, as though fire was running through it. It was what he deserved... The pain and the agony, he craved for them, needed them to ground him.

 

 

Now, that his tears were no more, the young man had no choice, but to accept the lightness which his body seemed to have. He could breathe easier and he had a feeling that he was floating, free of the burning as well as the aching, the agony and the guilt, which had him pinned to the ground. Yet, such a relief, needed as it might have been, was not welcomed. 

 

 

Sam hated himself, but what he hated even more, was the fact that, for just a few minutes, the guilt and the sorrow which had been clenching on him, had been pushed aside. He hated those feelings, because he wasn't allowed to feel neither light, nor relieved. He would have to hurt Dean, hurt him, him, the one person he never wished to hurt. The one person he would die to protect. So no, he did not deserve to feel free of his guilt.

 

 

The young man lifted his head towards the sky once again. The countless stars were mirrored in his glassy hazel orbs and Sam took in a shaky breath, his lips turning into a weak smile. Many were the nights he and Dean had spent, sitting on the hood of their beloved Impala, gazing at the sky above them, while drinking beer... A falling star made Sam's red rimmed orbs open wide, and the young man found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the sky. Another star followed the first one, and to Sam it seemed as though it was free falling, down to earth... 

 

 

The wind then blew, a gentle breeze which moved his brown locks away from his face and brought with it the sounds of people talking and of music playing, sounds coming from the house next to Bobby's. The song was rather old, thus Sam hadn't heard it before. As the wind blew again, the young man made out some of the lyrics...

“See the stars come fallin' down from the sky  
Gently passing, they kiss your tear drops dry  
See the wind come, softly blow  
Your hair from your face...  
Still I'm sad...”

“For myself my tears just fall in the dust  
As I search in the night and find they're lost  
See the wind come gently blow  
Time into my heart...  
Still I'm sad...” 

 

 

Silence once again fell on the yard, as the wind ceased to blow and Sam run his long fingers of his right hand through his hair, feeling the roughness of the bandage Dean had wrapped his wrist with, as he did so. He had to pull himself together, he had a promise to fulfill. He let his gaze wander off on the endless sky one last time. Just one more minute and he would be back inside... But the one minute came and then was gone, and so did the next one, and then the next one. Sam however, remained seated on the ground.

 

 

“You always thought you'd be the one to do it. The one to count all the stars.” A soft, caring voice echoed from Sam's side, breaking through the veil in which the hunter had concealed himself into. “And despite telling you that you couldn't do it, that nobody, could do it, I always believed, that if anyone, ever did it, it would be no one else, but you.” The voice kept talking, and only then did Sam feel that his side was warm, as though someone had been sitting next to him for a while. The young man blinked several times, and pressed his hand on his face again, before darting his head to his side, to face... Why did he even had to look? He already knew to whom the voice belonged. “Dean...” Sam whispered, meeting emerald green eyes.

 

 

'So, it is here, in this yard, in this house, the house I hold dear, the only place I call home, that me and Dean will have to part...' Sam thought to himself and his heart sank at the thought. 'It is here, that the first act of my show will be unfolded... Here, in the place where it all began, in the same place, it shall come to an end...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the end of chapter 19! Next chapter is almost done, so it should be posted sometime this week!   
> As for the lyrics:  
> Song: Still I'm sad  
> Artist:Rainbow  
> Album: Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow  
> Year of release: 1975  
> Lyrics are from the site: www.azlyrics.com  
> I OWN NOTHING!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> I hope that you do not hate me for the way I write the story. I know this chapter was too emotional, and many of you may think that it added nothing to the main story. 
> 
> Well, I really wanted to try and see how a person would feel, after having agreed to do something like what Sam will do. I'm sorry if this bothered you, but it just felt right to me.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed, please do not hesitate to tell me what you think!!  
> I love you all!!!


	20. Honor the Deal: Act 1:Rising of the Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam can no longer delay what he has to do. So, he puts on a mask, and starts the show...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to you all, hope you're doing fine! Here is chapter 20! Hell, Chapter 20? I never thought you would like this story, and I could never imagine, that I would write such a long story...  
> A milion thanks for ALL your support! Special thanks to Issraa, Muffingirl_93 and Kate, for their awesome comments! Your feedback makes me sooo happy!!  
> Hope, you all enjoy!

THEN

“Alright, alright dad, I will keep my word. Starting tomorrow, I will-” “You will honor your part of the deal Sam, but you will start tonight. I'll be watching you Sam. One wrong move, or sign which will give away your act and I will make sure Caleb comes here first thing in the morning!” John yelled, as he walked away, leaving Sam alone in the yard.“You always thought you'd be the one to do it. The one to count all the stars.” A soft, caring voice echoed from Sam's side.“Dean...” Sam whispered, meeting emerald green eyes.

 

'So, it is here, in this yard, in this house, the house I hold dear, the only place I call home, that me and Dean will have to part...' Sam thought to himself and his heart sank at the thought. 'It is here, that the first act of my show will be unfolded... Here, in the place where it all began, in the same place, it shall come to an end...'

And so, It begins...  
NOW

 

“Dean... How long have you been here-” “Long enough to understand that you were completely gone. Should anything attack you from the bushes-” Here Dean's green eyes traveled beyond Bobby's yard, to the many plants and bushes of the next house, from which Sam had heard the song earlier, “...then you would be in no position to see it, let alone fight it, if you had to. So, I thought I should stay here, but let you take your time.” He continued, stretching his hand towards Sam, but the younger man turned away from his touch. Dean looked stunned for a second, but eventually withdrew his hand, and turned his gaze on the sky. 

 

 

 

“I'm just... way too drained Dean, sorry, I... needed some time to clear my head from all that happened today-” “No, no I get it... you needed to get all that happened today out of your system, it's fine.” Came Dean's answer, but Sam could hear the bitterness in his brother's voice. “Dean, what is it, why-” “I've been sitting here for five minutes Sam, and you didn't even notice me-” “Just don't lecture me about not being careful enough right now Dean, please.” Sam whispered, trying to get a glimpse over his brother's shoulder, to see if his father was watching them from the window. 

 

 

“No, no, this isn't what I meant to say Sam...” Dean said, moving from Sam's side and kneeling, right in front of him. His callused hands tried to get ahold of Sam's red flushed face, but the younger man wouldn't let him. His part of the Deal needed to be honored, and the young Winchester had made up his mind. He would break up with Dean, but he would try to do it his own way. “Sam-” “Dean, dad can see us from the window, so for the love of God, do not fight fire with gasoline.” the young man whispered, and Dean felt him shiver.

 

 

“Sam... Jesus Sammy, how long have you been out here, you're ice cold and shaking!” Dean exclaimed, after managing to take a hold of his brother's hand. He tried to move his brother closer to his own body, but Sam stirred in his arms. “What the Hell don't you understand Dean?” Sam yelled all of a sudden and got up on his feet, fighting not to fall back down, as his knees trembled from being furled way too long. “I don't want any more trouble for today!” “Sammy, dad was talking on the phone when I got out and I'm sure that Bobby will keep him-” “Yeah, just like you were sure, that he wouldn't be back today!” Sam shot back unable to hold the words from escaping his lips.

 

 

 

Dean's eyes widened then, not only at the sound of the broken, pained words his brother had just spoken, but at the image before his eyes, as well. As the young man got up, his figure was illuminated by the lamps near the road. Only then, did the middle Winchester saw in what shape his brother was in. His bruised face was swollen and various spots on it, were colored purple. 

 

 

 

Dean could see that the hazel eyes, eyes he adored, eyes, which could captivate him with every glance, were now red rimmed, tired and blurred. Moving his gaze further down, Dean noticed the damped shirt as well as the jeans. Last, but not least, the green eyed man let his gaze find Sam's right wrist, which also seemed swollen. And as his emerald green eyes kept taking in that picture, Dean could feel his heart breaking, shuttering to pieces.

 

 

“What the hell are you looking at?” Sam questioned, hiding his wrist behind his back. “Sam...” What was there to say? It was all his fault, what had happened today, and Dean wanted nothing more, but to hold Sam close and take his pain away. What broke his heart to even smaller, sharper pieces however, was the fact that Sam was afraid of their father. Dean could see it, could hear, it in Sam's voice. “I know you're tired, hurt, s-...” But the green eyed man managed to stop himself in time. 'Scared, God, I'm right here, and yet, you're scared...' Dean thought, but kept the words for himself. Sam would be beyond mad if Dean were to speak of them right then. 

 

 

The green eyed hunter swallowed hard, and spoke again. “You're tired and hurt, so please, let us go back inside and-” “And what Dean? Curl on bed together? And what will happen when dad comes in-” “He won't Sam, he won't, but you need to calm down. You need rest and I can stay with you-” “No Dean, dad will come in, and you would be able to think of it, if you could stop thinking with your downstairs brain for one Goddamn minute!” Sam yelled, waving his trembling hands.

 

 

“Sam, this isn't what I'm saying, and you know it-” “Yeah, right, of course, I forgot, you don't want sex, you want to satisfy a different need, the need to pet me, as if I'm some kind of weakling!” Sam yelled, eyes burning. Oh God, how he hated this. He hated it, because this wasn't just a fight. This time, Sam was pushing the boundaries way too much, saying things he knew were not true, and yet they were affecting Dean as if they were.

 

 

“Sammy, you know what you're saying is not true. I've never considered you to be weak, or anything of that sort! You know it Sam, you know it, because you know me.” Dean said, voice thick with emotion. He boxed Sam between the door of Bobby's cabin and his own body, and fixed his emerald eyes on his swollen face.  
“And since you know me, you know that I can't see you... like that.” Dean whispered, his hands hovering over each side of Sam's face, careful not to touch the abused flesh. “Well, you have better get used to it.” Sam said, but his voice was now weak and uneven.

 

 

 

“No Sam, don't say such things... Dad, he was not himself today, he was tired and anxious... He will never hurt you again, he is not some kind of abusive bastard-” “Look Dean, I honestly don't want to talk about this right now!” Sam rasped, rage building up inside of him at the sound of his brother's words. The young man knew that his older sibling was not lying, but still... He couldn't bear hearing Dean finding excuses for what their father had done to him. But he knew this would happen sooner, or later. Because Dean could not go against John, not for long, it just wasn't in him. And Sam, knew that, all too well. That was the reason for making this deal, the reason why he was putting this mask on him... 

 

 

But, damn it, it hurt... It hurt so very much, because Dean was supposed to be taking his side, not John's, at least not for now... 'Oh God... Forgive me... I swore I would die to prevent Dean from making this choice... I swore, that I would rather die, than make him pick a side...' Sam thought and a shiver ran down his spine. 'And yet, here I am, a poor excuse of a man, wishing that he would... That he would somehow, pick me...'

 

 

“Look at me, Goddamn it!” Dean said in a voice which could be considered a snarl, as he took a hold of Sam's face, which the young man had turned away from Dean, and towards the window from which they could be seen. “What the hell is wrong with you Sam? Why the hell, are you turning away from me? You were fine all day, but ever since I went upstairs to take a freaking shower you-” “Fine? No, Dean, I've never been as far from the word 'fine', as I have come to be today!” Sam snapped, reclaiming his self control.

 

 

“Sammy, I'm... I'm sorry, I...” Incoherent words escaped Dean's lips, and Sam felt his heart breaking, at the sight of his brother's slightly, shaking figure. “How could I know that he was planning on returning home today?” The middle Winchester asked, but his voice fainted at the end of the sentence. “You couldn't have known Dean...” Sam muttered, unable to stop himself from doing so. The tone of his voice, soft, caring, was enough to light up Dean's face. The green eyed man fixed his eyes on Sam's, and got ready to hug him, thinking that, Sam had finally said what he needed to, and that their fight was over. 

 

 

And Sam, whose heart wanted nothing more than to surrender to the man it was beating for, would have fallen in Dean's embrace, would have let himself be cradled by strong, gun callused hands right that second, had his eyes missed John's tall figure gazing on them from the window. “But if you keep challenging our luck, next time dad comes back from somewhere, he will see us.” Sam's voice trailed off, and Dean's green eyes narrowed.

 

 

“And that Dean, will be your fault, and yours alone.” The young man said, freeing himself from his brother's hold. “He saw nothing today Sam-” “Well, if that's what he can do to me when he has seen nothing, I honestly don't want to know what he will do, if he-” “I won't let him lay a hand on you again!” Dean interjected, but Sam needed to go on with the show. Dean tried to get Sam to look at him, but the younger man refused to do so. 

 

 

“You've said that before, three days ago, to be accurate, when we were coming back here after I had given you a blow job, inside Bobby's cabin.” Sam rasped and Dean took a few steps backwards. “You said, and I quote; 'I won't mind who will be standing in front of me Sammy. Whether it is some random guy from school, who called you a freak, or Dad, or God himself, I will finish him.' And yet, here we are, here I am, beaten up, because I tried to delay dad, so as to protect us both.” Sam said, eyes fixed on his feet.

 

 

 

“I... I'll take you away from here Sam-” “Dean, stop this. I don't blame you for what happened today, I really don't. Besides, you did punch him on my behalf. What I'm saying, is that you shouldn't try to fool yourself. You know as well as I do, that we can't leave. We have nowhere to go, no one to turn to. So, stop playing the savior, the hero who takes his partner away from home, so that they can live their life and their love freely. This isn't some stupid fairy-tail Dean. Which means, that those words you say, at the very end, they are nothing more than empty threats.” Sam said, irony filling his voice.

 

 

 

Dean waved his head in refusal and swallowed hard, recognizing those last words, for they were the exact same words his father had told him in his dream. “Don't you dare say that to me Sam, don't you fucking dare!” Dean yelled, grabbing Sam by the collar of his shirt and pinning him with his back on the old wooden door. Their eyes met, and Sam saw such pain in his brother's deep green orbs, that made him to want to stop all that stupid act right then. This wasn't what he wanted. He was supposed to save Dean from the pain, and yet...

 

 

 

“Why, isn't that the truth? You can't leave dad Dean.” Sam whispered, his lips only an inch away from Dean's. “Now let go off me, before he sees us! Unless you want to serve as his next punching bag! Because I am sure as Hell, that I don't want to play that role again!” “You know I would do anything to keep you safe! It's my job, so don't you-” “Of course, what else could it be, than your job!” Sam yelled, and saw Dean's eyes blurring. The green eyed man was on the verge of breaking down. “You know what I mean Sam! You know, that when it comes to you, there is nothing I can't, or won't do!” Dean repeated and Sam wanted to throw up.

 

 

“Well... You had better find another way to spend your time, a better task to dedicate yourself to. Because I will soon be gone. Even dad agreed, that I should go to Stanford.” Sam replied and the green eyed man felt his heart shattering to pieces yet again. He opened his mouth, but no words escaped his lips. “Look... I'm sorry. I know that this is what you do... You watch out for me.” Sam whispered, turning his gaze away from his brother, for the sight was too painful to watch. “And... I can not change your mind, you made that point clear yesterday. So, you can keep it up. You can watch over me. Just make sure...” But here Sam's voice trailed off once more, and the young man turned his back on his brother yet again.

 

 

“Just make sure that you don't mess things up. I have this chance, this, one chance, to get out of this life, and now, I even have dad's consent. I don't want them to be damned because of what we... have. So, please at least for tonight, keep your hands to yourself and stay away from me. I need time to... Think, how and if...” Here his voice fainted and he heard Dean choking a sob. “If, what we have can work out, without ruining everything.” The young man said, not daring to look at his brother, as he started to walk towards the house.

 

 

His hazel eyes were filled with tears, but Sam held them back, because John's keen eyes, better than the hawk's, were fixed on him. And Sam was sure, that even behind the dusted window, his father could see everything. Sam had almost reached the front door of Bobby's house, when he heard Dean's voice, hurt, but firm, in his ears. “You talk a good game brother. You really do.” He said, and the young hunter felt the heat of Dean's body on his back. “What the-” “Now, I don't know what this is, or where it all came from. It could be your adrenaline, which made you talk to me like that. Or, it could be some kind of fake façade you have put on, I honestly, don't know.” Dean muttered and Sam swallowed hard.

 

 

“What are you mumbling about-” “But here is something I know for sure... Sam.” Dean continued, highlighting the last word, careful to avoid the use of the nickname Sam had associated with him. “And what is that?” Sam questioned, as he tried to turn around to face the green eyed man, but Dean wouldn't let him. “The fact, that you're lying through your ass.” At the sound of those words, Sam almost choked on his own spit. “But you can't lie to me, not really.” Dean whispered and Sam's shoulders trembled ever so slightly. 

 

 

“You think I'm lying?” Sam said, putting every bit of irony and mockery he had in him, in those words. He thought he had achieved the perfect tone for his answer. Yes, he had, he was sure of it. That small crack in the end of the sentence couldn't be detected by anyone. Only Sam knew it was there, and only Sam knew, that it was caused by the pain and the fear which he could barely suppress. “No, I don't think that you're lying. I know it.” Dean declared, pressing his chest on Sam's back even more.

 

 

 

“See... your shoulders, they trembled Sam.” Dean whispered in Sam's ear, his hands ever so close to his shoulders, yet they wouldn't touch Sam's shirt. “Now, this slight tremor, runs down your spine whenever you have a nightmare about me dying, and you wake up to find out that dad is looking at you, waiting for you to get up and wake me up as well. But your mind is still clouded, so you suppress the fear as much as possible and you come to my side of the bed, to wake me up. When dad asks you if you're alright, you lie, and you say, that you're fine.” “What the hell are you talking about Dean, this is completely irrelevant!” Sam shot back instantly.

 

 

 

“Oh, is it now? Because I think it's not. And since I listened to all your bullshit, now it's your turn to listen to me.” Dean said, moving them both to the left so that they would be standing a little further from the door of Bobby's house than before. “At the first echo of your words, I wake up, and open my eyes, but you're still locked inside your head, so you can't see me. So, you stretch your hand towards me. At the first touch of your hand on my shoulder, that exact same shiver, runs down your spine.” Dean said, making Sam unable to utter a single word.

 

 

“And then, there is your voice... You always say 'Wake up, come on Dean.' At the last word, there is always, the slightest crack. A crack caused because of fear. You hide the fact that you had a nightmare, from dad, who has his eyes fixed on your back, and you know that the one who really knows what's wrong with you, is there as well. You sure noticed the exact same crack towards the end of your mocking question...” Dean said, and Sam's mind had stopped working. 'Then why can you not see it Dean? That, this time, you are the one who has his eyes on my back, that you're the one who I'm trying to fool, and that dad is the the one, who knows what's really going on...?' The young man thought to himself.

 

 

 

Sam blinked a couple of times and darted his head from side to side, focusing on Dean's voice, which was once again, all the young man could hear. “I will leave you alone for tonight, since you think all I want is to have sex, or to pet you. I won't come close to you, since you are so worried that dad will see us and that you will lose your ticket to Stamford.” Dean continued, choosing his words carefully. “But know that I will find out, what is it, that you're hiding.” The green eyed man assured. 

 

 

Sam's heart skipped a beat at the sound of those words and the young man used every bit of strength and will power he had in him, to keep his face emotionless, despite the fact Dean could not see it. Sam waved his options, but before he could make a decision, or choose the proper words to speak, he heard footsteps moving closer to the door. And Sam was not a fool, he knew to whom those steps belonged to... They belonged to nobody else but John Winchester, who wanted to make sure, that Sam would honor their deal.

 

 

 

And so, all that was standing between John and the boys was an old, thick piece of wood... Which meant, the older man could hear what his sons were saying, as if he was right next to them. It was yet, another test for Sam... “You can search all you want, but you will find nothing. Because, I hide nothing.” “That remains to be seen.” Dean replied, and for a split second, Sam wondered if his brother had heard their father's movement.“Tell me Dean, what are you going to do, when you find out that I hide nothing? That all the things I just said, were not words of adrenaline, or a fake facade?” “No Sam, they are not true. You don't believe what you said. You know that if I have to, I will find a way to take us away.” Dean declared, raising his voice.

 

 

“Whatever makes you sleep at night Dean.” Sam shot back, huffing. He used his uninjured hand, to push his brother's body to the side, and got ready to enter the house. “It will not be our relationship which will cost you your ticket to Stanford, Sam.” Dean said, voice nothing more than a whisper, filled with anger.

 

 

“Excuse me?” “I'm not saying that what dad did today was right. And I swear, I will finish him if he does that again. Whether you believe it, or not. But Sam, you have to admit... That, if you keep fighting with him over every little thing, he will take his, so called consent, and feed it to you for breakfast.... So, no, our relationship will not take your chance away. Your inability to behave like a good son, and listen to dad, for just a little while however, will do just that.”

 

 

 

Sam's eyes widened and he got ready to speak, but before he could utter another word, Dean's body was gone from his side, and the young man let a whimper escape his lips at the feeling of cold air on his back. Dean moved passed him and got inside the house, without bothering to look back at his brother, who hadn't moved an inch. 

 

 

God, who was he trying to fool? Dean had seen right through him... Of course he had, how could he not? Dean knew him like the back of his hand, knew him better than himself... Sam swallowed hard, entering the house as well. “I'm going to get some sleep.” He managed to say and he started climbing the stairs, ignoring Bobby's calls. As he opened the door of their room, Sam caught a glimpse of his father, who was standing, leaning his back on the wall, right next to the door. “Dean went to the bathroom. I would suggest that he should find you asleep when he comes back in here.” John muttered, and Sam nodded, but kept his gaze fixed on the floor.

 

 

“He will, goodnight sir.” He said through clenched teeth. “Sam... If you really want to become a lawyer, you have to learn to lie better, you understand?” John continued, raising an eyebrow. “Lawyers reveal the truth, they don't lie...” Sam muttered, his voice broken. “Well, you will have to lie, and lie better from now on!” John snapped, glaring at Sam. The old man, then withdrew, leaving Sam alone, standing by the door.

 

 

Meanwhile, Dean had locked himself inside the bathroom, and had grabbed fistfuls of the sink. All his attitude had abandoned him and the green eyed man tried his best to remain calm. 'You better find another task to dedicate yourself to...' Sam had told him... 'No, he was lying, there is something going on here...' his subconscious yelled at him. 'You think I'm lying?' He had to be lying... He had to... And if he wasn't? Dean let out a long, frustrated sigh and pressed his hand on his face. 'I have to think... If what we have, can work, without ruining everything...' 

 

 

 

Dean bit his bottom lip hard, letting the pain wash over him. He was well aware of the fact that Sam was right. Their relationship they had could indeed cost him his long desired freedom. The green eyed man sighed yet again, as his own words echoed in his head. 'Your inability to behave like a good son however, will do just that.' Deep down, Dean knew that even if this declaration was true, he had spoken the words defensively, for the mere thought of them breaking up was enough, to make the middle Winchester feel dizzy. “He is lying, this isn't him talking...”Dean muttered to himself. He then, washed his face and got out of the bathroom.

 

 

By the time he entered the room, Sam had turned off the lights and had covered himself with the thin blanket. Dean stretched his hand, to move away the hair from Sam's forehead, but something inside of him made him stop. He clenched his fingers to a fist and withdrew his hand, turning away from Sam's bed and towards his own. He lay down and turned his back on his brother, well aware of the fact that he would get no sleep that night.

 

 

And his instinct proved to be true. Dean spent the entire night with his mind on Sam and the sudden alteration of his behavior with his green eyes fixed on the wall... And just a few feet away, Sam, did the exact same thing... And so, none of the boys slept that night...

 

 

At the first light of day, John burst through their door and ordered them to get ready to leave. They both obeyed silently, gathering up their stuff, without looking at one another. Things were happening fast, and to Sam, it seemed they were all, nothing more than a blur. He was sure Bobby had told him something, but he couldn't recall what. All his movements were made automatically, and before he could understand what had happened, the young man found himself in the state of Minnesota, in an old, dirty motel room. A motel room, which for two whole weeks, would serve as a hellish prison for Sam.

 

His only excuse to get out, was that he had to go to school. There, Sam met a girl, and did as he was told. He proposed a relationship to her, and she accepted at once. Sam knew however, that what she wanted, was to just show off, to the rest of the school. Ellie, was her name, but to Sam she meant little more than nothing. The first few days, Dean would drive Sam to school, and would then pick him up, as soon as the classes would end. At that little time they had on their own, the middle Winchester would try to make Sam open up to him, but to his credit, Sam would always push his brother away.

 

 

Sam thought that Dean would give up after seeing him flirting openly with Ellie, thought that, he would be pissed. Well, If he was pissed, he was hiding it, and he was acting as though nothing had changed. He had also, put a mask, the mask of the hunter on his face... And so, the days were passing by, with John's eyes fixed on both his sons. His words were few and his orders clear. He was trying his best to keep Dean as far away from Sam as possible. And so, the days, were passing by, each one of them, driving the brothers, even further away from one another.

 

 

And so, the days were passing by... Days, dry and hot, in which Sam was playing his role as good as possible. Days, cold and clouded, in which Ellie would follow Sam wherever he would go, kissing him and caressing his body with every chance she would get. Days, windy and rainy, in which Dean, would silently watch Sam from afar, whenever he thought John wasn't looking. But John, was always looking. And deep in his heart, the elder Winchester begun to understand, that his choice, was the wrong one.

 

 

Because, now Dean's look had changed, and in his eyes, John could no longer see neither the complicity, nor the utter happiness he had witnessed back on Bobby's house. For those feelings were not dwelling in his son's soul anymore. No, now all that was left, was longing, and need, to be loved. John had seen, and could still see, the longing in Dean's gaze, whenever his son would look at him, just like he had seen it in Bobby's house. But now, he could see it whenever Dean would look at Sam from afar as well.

 

 

And yet, not once, during their stay in Minnesota, did Dean make a move to stop his brother from having a relationship with that girl. The only thing he did, was that he spent his nights at the various bars the state had, staying as far away from Sam as possible. So, the time came, for the three Winchesters to return to Sioux Falls, and for Sam, to do what he never wanted to... 

 

 

Thus, Fate finds Sam, Dean and John Winchester on Bobby's old house once more. It was late at night, on a Saturday night, by the end of the first week of April, that Sam found himself climbing down the all too familiar wooden staircase, following his father, trying to talk to him... Trying, for yet another time, to make the older man change his mind.

 

 

“Dad... Please, don't make me do this. Have you not seen him? The way he looks at me, when he thinks you are not watching us? If this is how much he's hurting now, then I don't want to know-” But Sam was interrupted by John's cold, hard voice. “Stop repeating the same thing over and over Sam, you have a deal to honor. Besides, it would happen sooner or later.” “Dad, just please-” “Enough Sam! I am going to leave here tonight, and I'll be back first thing in the morning! By then, whatever, little adventure you two had, will be over! Do I make myself clear?” John yelled, as he grabbed his coat from the chair, near Bobby's wooden desk.

 

 

“Oh, and Sam, I have my way to check things out. You have until dawn, to break up with him, or else...” But here, John's voice fainted. The younger man stared beseechingly at his father, but all the elder Winchester did, was to shut the door as he got out of the house. Not five minutes later, Sam heard his brother returning back home. “Where is dad?” Dean asked, voice distant. “Um, he just left, he went to find Bobby, and they will be back tomorrow.” “Right...” Dean said and turned around, to leave the living room.

 

 

Sam's eyes blurred, and he could swear his heart could shatter to pieces anytime, any second now... “Dean... sit down for a while, I want us to talk.” He muttered, fixing his eyes on his feet. “Oh, what, now we're talking? Seems Christmas have come early this year.” Dean replied, smiling ironically. “Dean... Dad was always watching, so-” “Yeah, right, that's why in two weeks time, we haven't spoken more than two hours.... Yeah, Because dad was looking, whatever you say Sam...” the older man shot back, his green eyes avoiding sad, hazel ones. “Dean... Sit down, please.” Sam repeated, pointing at the small couch with his hand.

 

 

“I'd rather stand Sam, besides, whatever it is you have to say, I bet it won't take us long.” Dean answered, moving towards his brother. “Dean, no, what I want to talk to you about-” “Cut the crap Sam, just cut the crap.” The older hunter said, voice cracking. Sam lowered his head, biting his bottom lip hard, to hold his tears back.

 

 

At Sam's reaction, Dean sighed bitterly, waving his hand in agreement. “There is another reason I don't want us to sit down. I want you to come here, right in front of me, and tell me whatever you want to say, while looking me... In the eyes.” Sam's breath was caught in his throat, but he did as he was told. With heavy steps, he dragged himself towards Dean and stopped a few inches before him. That was it. The point of no return. The greatest game, the greatest show, Sam would ever try to pull off... “Dean...” Hazel then met emerald, and Sam gasped at the amount of sadness, that his brother's eyes were caring. 

 

“Dean, I...” But Sam could not stand to look in those eyes, no, God, he couldn't... “Look at me and tell me what you want to...” Dean said, voice breaking. His strong hands took ahold of Sam's face for the first time in two weeks, and held it still, maintaining eye contact. Dean's thumbs brushed Sam's cheekbones automatically, and the older hunter moved closer to his brother. “Say it, Sam.” he said again, in a tone which indicated he knew what his brother was going to say. “Dean I... I...” “Sam, I don't have all night, get done with it.” “Why, so you can go to some bar and-” But Sam couldn't utter another word, for the older man tugged his hair upwards hard enough to make him squirm.

 

 

“Oh, now you care what I do, now, that the chick is gone... Now, that dad isn't looking... Now, you care?” Dean muttered, his face only inches from Sam's. “Dean-” “A little late, to lecture me about going to a bar, don't you think?” Dean continued, his mouth so close to Sam's that the two of them, were breathing each others breath. “So, what is it you want to say to me? You want to explain why you said all those things on the yard, two weeks ago, and what is it, that you have been hiding ever since that night? Or, maybe, you want to explain to me, why we haven't talked more than two hours in two weeks... Without lying through your ass this time.” Dean whispered. 

 

 

“So, come on Sam, what is it you want to say to me?” Dean repeated, and Sam bit the inside of his cheek so hard he felt the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. “Dean... I... I want... I want us to break up. I want us to finish this relationship we have... For good this time.” Sam managed to say, and saw Dean's face hardening...  
This, would be one hell of a night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the end of chapter 20. I hope you liked it! I don't know when next chapter will be up, but I will try my best, to get it done as soon as possible!
> 
> By the way, today is my birthday! I am officialy, 21 years old! So, please omment if you can! Think of your comments as my birthday present! :-)


	21. Honor the Deal: Act 2:Hearts in pieces...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean... Dean and Sam... Riding Baby, the two brothers head to Illinois, to hunt down a shape shifter... But the most dreadful of enemies, is not the supernatural creature they are called to face, but their own memories... Memories, which haunt them both, throughout their journey, memories cruel and toxic...  
> Memories of that night... Of the night they broke up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to you all! I hope you're all doing fine, and that you're happy and healthy!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> So, here is chapter 21, which is kind of.... Um way too long. Yeah, I know, but it couldn't be broken in two, for the flow would be messed up as well.
> 
>  
> 
> Next time, I promise I'll make the chapter shorter.  
> Now, many of you tell me that you cry while reading this... God I'm so sorry, I never wanted to make you cry... :( 
> 
> But I have to warn you, if you cried on previous chapters, I don't know what's going to happen here, because I cried while typing this chapter...
> 
> But, rest assured, things will get better for our boys from the next chapter! And just so you know, this story is slowly, but surely, heading towards the end. I don't know the exact number of chapters left (ok 4 at least, but after that, I'm not sure). So, know that the story will end well, with our boys- Woops! Spoilers!!!!! :) Okay, so keep in mind that it will end well!
> 
> Here, I should say a HUGE thank you to my beta reader, GypsyPriestess, for all her help and for all her encouragment! She is just awesome!!!! :)
> 
> Oh, and as always, I would like to thank you, all of you, for all your comments, kudos, follows, and for reading this!!!
> 
> Special thanks to Issraa, as well as, to SamnDean1987 for all their continued support!!  
> Hope that you will enjoy!!!!!!!!

NOW

 

“You know, I really didn't need your sorry ass to come with me.” Dean said, as his fingers tightened their hold around the wheel of the Impala. “You need help Dean, this is a freaking shape shifter, for the love of God!” Came the answer from his side, as Sam let the book he was reading hit his lap and glanced over his shoulder at his brother. “According to you, not dad.” The green eyed man replied, filling his voice with irony. Sam let out a long, silent sigh and let his head rest on the window, avoiding his brother's gaze. “Besides... Why did you even wanted to come? In less than one month you will be out of here and you'll never hunt again, as you so triumphantly declare.” The middle Winchester said, irony masking the hurt in his voice.

 

“Because you need help, that's why-” “Dad said-” “Well, I don't care what he said. You can't face a freaking sifter all by yourself Dean.” “Right...” The older man muttered, speeding up the car, making Sam's head hit the window. “Right, how could I forget that, you never care what dad says.” Dean continued, fixing his emerald eyes on the road ahead of him. “And why care, it's not you, who's going to be stuck with him.” The older man shot back, betting that his words would hurt his brother. Well, a long time ago, they would for sure. But now? Now, Dean wasn't so sure... No, he wasn't sure at all, for he felt as though he didn't know his brother anymore.

 

 

“You. Need. Help.” Sam stated, leaving no room for an argument. He then let his head lean on the window even more, seeking a cool spot on it. His eyes wandered, taking in, the gray asphalt, which seemed to be spreading on an on, like an endless river, and the houses near the road, houses bathed on the morning sun, which was illuminating everything it touched.

 

 

Yes, houses bathed in the sun, for now, summer was marching towards its end. It was the twentieth of August, to be precise, and as the clock was striking ten in the morning, a black 67' Impala was tearing the asphalt in half, heading from Missouri towards Illinois, carrying with her, yes, with her, for that car was a female, Sam and Dean Winchester. Yes, Sam Winchester, who, despite his father's threats, had joined his brother on that hunt, for he couldn't bear the thought that Dean would need help and he wouldn't be there to assist him. Sam Winchester, who for almost four and a half months now, had been playing his role, keeping his brother at arms length, in order to protect him.

 

 

But the car also carried Dean, whose suffering was never-ending, for he was unaware of what his brother had done all those months ago in order for him not to lose his father. So, the only one who knew the exact amount of pain and suffering Sam, but more importantly, Dean, was enduring, was this car. Countless were the nights, in which Dean had either drunk, or cried himself to sleep, right there, in that car. Countless were the nights, in which those leather seats had acted as a loving embrace for the green eyed man, gathering up his pieces, offering him a safe haven to pass the night. Yes, this car, knew it all...

 

 

“You shouldn't have come... Besides, you were sick until two days ago, you still have a mild fever from time to time.” “I am fine Dean, don't worry, I assure you that you won't have to stay in the motel room during the night, you can go wherever you want to.” Sam declared, huffing in annoyance, even though, deep down, he knew that he was still sick. “You shouldn't have come...” Dean repeated, more to himself rather than his brother, grabbing the wheel of the car for dear life. Sam heard Dean's muffled whisper, but chose to ignore it and focused on the scenery all around him. It was the best he could do, in order to not betray his act, which he had, so hard, tried to maintain. 

 

And as the car roared once again, Sam's mind traveled, through an all too familiar path, to that night, when he and Dean broke up. That night, on Bobby's house, when Sam delivered one hell of an act... An act, which broke Dean's heart, into so many pieces, that Sam was sure, it could never be whole again...

 

Bobby's house, April 4, late at night...

 

“Dean... sit down for a while, I want us to talk.” “What is it you want to say to me Sam? You want to explain why you said all those things in the yard, two weeks ago, and what is it, that you have been hiding ever since that night? Or, maybe, you want to explain to me, why we haven't talked more than two hours in two weeks... Without lying through your ass this time.” Dean whispered. 

 

Sam bit the inside of his cheek so hard he felt the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. “Dean... I... I want... I want us to break up. I want us to end this relationship we have... For good this time.” Sam managed to say, and saw Dean's face hardening...

 

 

For a few seconds, the older man remained still, with his hands hooked on each side of his brother's face, their hold preventing it from bowing down. He seemed to be unable to let Sam go, and indeed, unable he was... For something deep inside of him, was screaming, that as soon as he would let Sam go, he would never, find him again. The very next second however, Dean pulled himself backwards almost forcibly, as though electricity had hit him, his steps small, unsteady. He turned his back on Sam, who hadn't moved an inch from the spot he was standing, and headed towards Bobby's desk.

 

 

Sam's hazel eyes followed him, and were not surprised, when Dean opened a bottle of Whiskey, pouring a generous amount of the hot brown liquor in a glass. “Dean, let me-” “It took you long enough...” Dean spoke, cutting Sam off, his eyes fixed on the window, his back turned on Sam. “What, what do you mean, I don't understand-” “Right, you don't understand...” Dean muttered, voice poisonous. The younger man swallowed hard as he saw his brother bringing the glass to his lips, emptying its fiery content in one, swift move. “You don't understand...” he repeated through clenched teeth, tightening his hold around the glass, which was on the verge of breaking.

 

“Dean... Let me explain why I... Want us to break up.” Sam said, fixing his eyes on his brother's now, stiff back. “Explain... You want to explain... Explain what Sam? Explain what? That for two whole weeks you've barely spoken to me? That you've drawn yourself as far away as possible? Or, maybe you want to explain to me-” “I needed time to think, Dean, I told you that I needed to think, if what we have... could work-” “Oh yeah, and you've been thinking about it, while messing around with that... Whatever her name was. Great Sam, just great!” Dean said, raising his voice. “But let us hear your... explanations.” He continued, the hurt in his voice audible.

 

“Her name was Ellie, and I wasn't messing with her, we didn't have sex or anything-” “You said that you would explain the reasons why you want us... To finish what we have. So get to the point.” Dean declared, grabbing the sink with his free hand, in an attempt to hide its shaking. “Dean... I can't do this, I just, can't. You have to understand, dad has finally agreed to let me go, so for the first time since... forever, I get a chance to have a normal life. You have to understand...” Sam muttered, but his voice fainted and his eyes blurred. 

 

 

“You told me, a few days ago, that you don't mind what other people would have to say about us, about our relationship.” Dean said, voice surprisingly calm. He then moved from where he was standing, and headed towards Bobby's desk, grabbing the bottle of Whiskey, before returning to his spot, right over the sink. “And I stand by that Dean, I don't care about other people, but dad isn't some random guy, and if he finds out-” “He won't, I can promise you that.” Dean cut off, while refilling his glass. “Don't make promises you know you can't keep Dean. Just don't.” Sam spoke, voice tight.

 

“Is that it? Is that the only reason?” Dean questioned, taking a sip of his whiskey as he did so. Sam's breath was then caught in his throat... “You need another one? Isn't the fact that, I can't live with this weight on my shoulders, this agony, that dad will find out about us, enough for you?” Sam said, waving his hands as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Dean's back. “No Sam, not even close. You would leave for Stanford whether dad agreed or not, that's what you had told me. So what you're saying, it makes no sense.” The green eyed man said as he turned around to face his brother. 

 

 

“It makes more than enough sense, it's just you, who can't see it Dean.” Sam replied, watching as his brother finished the second glass of whiskey and immediately grabbed the bottle, in order to refill the glass for the third time. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah, because if dad finds out about us, then, even if I want to run away, I won't be able to!” “This still isn't enough Sam, it isn't enough, to neither justify your decision, nor the way you've been treating me the past two weeks!” Dean yelled taking a step towards his brother. “I needed time Dean, time to think! We're talking about my future here, and in case you're wondering, it wasn't easy for me either, to treat you like that! But dad was always looking!” Sam shot back, anger in his voice, fire in his hazel eyes. 

 

“And just so you know, what I'm doing right now is not something I want to do, but something that needs to be done. It's better for the both of us, to take some time apart before I go away for good.” Sam continued, lowering his voice, flicking his gaze between Dean and the floor. “Oh, so you're doing it for me now, so that I can get used to the idea... Yeah sure, that's why you have been sleeping with that Ellie chick as well...” Dean rasped, rage building up inside of him. 

 

 

But despite Dean's angry voice, Sam could see that, his brother was hurting, and he was hurting too much. All this rage, it was nothing more, than his way of dealing with a painful situation he could not change. “Dean... Look, don't make this harder than it is... Please man... Please...” Sam said, moving closer to his brother, meeting his gaze. “You told me, that if I ever needed us to... Break up for some reason, I should talk to you. And I am doing just that. I'm sorry, I really am, Dean, but... But, I can't give my future up, to stay in this relationship, for just a few more months, no matter how much I may want to be with you.” Sam whispered, stretching a trembling hand towards his brother.

 

“Dean...” But the older man remained silent, as grief and despair rose up in his chest, wrapping themselves around his heart, threatening to break it, with every passing second. “Dean... Talk to me...” “Talk to you... Yeah, okay, I'll talk to you. Do you want me to adapt the Mexican accent as I speak?” Dean said, swallowing two sips of whiskey. “What the Hell are you-” “'I can't give my future up, just for a few more months, no matter how much I may want to.' And blah, blah, blah... What do you think this is, a soap-opera? You said it yourself two weeks ago, what we have isn't some stupid fairy tale. So cut the crap and give me a better reason for your decision, than your cowardice!” Dean rasped, moving towards the center of the room.

 

 

“How can you even say that to me Dean?” Sam yelled as he grabbed the older man by the shoulder. “How can you even-” “Oh come on! You think you're the only one who puts his head in the lion's mouth here? It may have slipped your mind, but I would be damned too, should dad find out about us! But unlike you, I don't run away from what I want Sam. I don't give up on us, like you do.” “Wanting a different life is no cowardice Dean.” Sam stated, his hand on Dean's shoulder starting to shake. “ No, No it's not. Selling out your old life however, and especially lying to do so, is.” Dean replied, freeing himself from Sam's weak hold. 

 

 

“I'm not lying Dean, what else would you want to hear me say?” Sam spoke, swallowing to make the words come out of his mouth. “When you really want something you fight for it, isn't that what you say?” The older man muttered, voice low, hurt, filled with bitterness. “But I-” “So no, Sam, you don't want to be with me, like you said, not really. You've proven that, with your actions the past two weeks.” “Dean, I told you, we didn't do anything!” “Why Sam? I never thought of you as gay, so since you had the girl, why didn't you had sex with her? If you didn't do anything with her, then why were you two sleeping together?” The green eyed man asked, grabbing the bottle to refill his glass yet again. 

 

 

 

And they were those words, which hit Sam like a punch in the stomach. He knew that Dean was angry and hurt, but he could never think that he would speak like that. “You know, I have no obligation to answer that, so let's just get done with it!” The younger Winchester shot back, feeling his heart starting to break and his eyes starting to sting. “Oh, no, no no no, dear Sammy...” Dean announced, underlining the last word, the nickname he knew, he hadn't called his brother with, for the last two weeks. “You're not going to buy your way out with such tricks! I'm your brother, not some client, who hired you as a lawyer!” Dean yelled, grabbing Sam by the hand, pushing him on the nearest wall.

 

 

“Let go of me!” “You want us to break up, this is one thing... But the way you've been treating me, the lies you've been serving me, about how you haven't spoken to me, because dad was always watching, and about having done nothing with that chick, I won't accept them Sam, so how about some honesty at last?” Dean questioned, and Sam could smell the Whiskey in his breath. “Oh, so you want to know why I didn't have sex with her?” “Yeah, and I'm guessing, it wasn't so that you wouldn't hurt my feelings! Screw them right?” “No, it had nothing to do with your feelings.” Sam responded, lying convincingly enough. “It had to do with mine.” He muttered, but his voice trailed off... 

Oh, God, let it be over with...

 

Back on the road, the 20th of August...

 

“You need anything?” Sam heard Dean asking, and raised his head to look at him. “Sorry, what?” He murmured, swallowing hard to keep his voice steady. “I said...” Dean rasped pulling the car off the road, “Do you need anything?” Sam let his eyes wander and saw that his brother had stopped at a gas station. “Um... Wait, where are we?” “Just outside of Illinois, but I need to stretch my legs.” Dean said, voice distant. “Just some water then.” Sam replied, watching as his brother nodded his head in approval and got out of the car, shutting the door behind him. The young man let out a long sigh, pressing his hand over his face. Any other time he would have followed Dean, and he would even have given him a blow job... But now, there was no such possibility. 

 

 

Now, Dean couldn't stand the pain of having Sam close to him, and not being able to touch him, or to even talk to him, like he used to... And for that, he had fled. For Sam, knew him well, he didn't really need to stretch his legs as he had stated; he needed to get away from him, even for a little while. And Sam, hated himself, for being the one to cause so much pain to his brother.

 

 

“What you you like sir?” The cashier of the small shop next to the gas station asked, smiling widely. “A bottle of water and-” But Dean's order was interrupted by a woman's high pinched voice. “No, no Mark, it's not about you, it's about me! My career, my job, my future!” Dean's green eyes traveled towards the woman's direction, and saw, that she was talking an the phone. “Just the water please.” Muttered the green eyed man, and as his voice fainted, the woman spoke again. “Mark, honey, I do care about your feelings okay? But what about me? What about my own feelings?” She questioned, and Dean found himself, not in the small shop, but in Bobby's house...

 

Bobby's house, April 4.

“Your feelings? What's that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, while grabbing the younger man by the collar of his shirt, in order to pin him on the wall. Sam swallowed hard, lifting his head up to look at the ceiling. God, he never wanted to say the words he was about to, for they were lies... Horrible, absurd lies... But Dean had to be convinced, to let what they had go, and Sam could find no other way to make this happen. “I asked a fucking question!” Dean snarled, shaking the younger man by the shirt. “It means... That I didn't have sex with her, because I couldn't think of myself as the guy, who makes love to a girl while... He is with another man as well.” Sam said, voice fainting. 

 

 

“I couldn't Dean, and if I am going to be gone, I'll have to be able to be... Normal. Because that's what I am chasing, this, little slice of normal I've got left...” The young Winchester continued, knowing that he was using Dean's words against him, but having no other choice but to do so. His mind could recall those words, as though they were spoken right at that moment... “It took me two years to get over the fact we’re brothers. But not because I was afraid of God’s judgment. But because I didn’t want to take this slice of ‘normal’ you had managed to keep, away from you.” Dean had said, and Sam knew he wasn't joking. “Right... Problem is, you're lying... Again.” Rasped the green eyed man bringing Sam back to the present.

 

 

“What?” “Now of all times, you remembered that you want to be normal?” Dean shot back, his words, pure poison. “Then why didn't you end this two weeks ago, when we had the same conversation?” “Dean, just, please... Stop saying such things, what I'm doing is not easy-” “What you're doing, is what you always do!” Dean yelled, releasing Sam from his hold, while grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the table, bringing it on his lips at once, without bothering to pour the drink into his glass this time. And Sam could only watch, as Dean drunk sip after sip of whiskey, while tightening his hold around the bottle. 

 

 

“What you always do... Yes...” Dean whispered breathlessly, his voice hoarse, as the burn in his throat was almost unbearable. “You just meet people along the way, you call them friends, or whatever else you like, and when we leave, you forget about them!” The middle Winchester yelled, drinking directly from the bottle for yet another time. “You're drunk.” Was all Sam could bring himself to answer, for no other words could escape his dry lips. But Dean kept talking, lost in his delirium, in a realm of pure pain and despair. Because Sam, didn't want him anymore. And if Sam didn't want him anymore, then, nobody did. For what was he, but a broken, helpless little man, who craved for love?

 

 

“That's what happened with this girl as well, that was the reason why you two didn't have sex... That's what happens with all of them...” Dean declared, taking a hold of the glass which he had earlier set on the kitchen table. “Even with me, am I right?” “Dean-” “You're giving me up, to go to Stanford. You're breaking up with me, because you will be gone, because you'll move on. Because you care for nothing else, save your shitty little college!” the middle Winchester yelled, throwing the glass which he had previously taken a hold of, on the nearest wall. The rattle echoed throughout the house, and countless sharps of glass fell on the wooden floor... And Sam couldn't be sure, that his own heart wasn't somewhere in between the shattered glass, for it was so, very broken...

 

 

“You knew I would be going to Stanford Dean, so how can you say that I sold you out?” Sam uttered, taking a step closer to his brother. “Forget it, it doesn't matter, not anymore, you've made up your mind anyway.” “Dean, this would happen sooner or later, and you knew it as well. It's just... After meeting Ellie, I understood that... I had to make a choice. I had to choose, between the life I want, and you.” “Yeah, and I saw how difficult was for you to make that choice.” Dean said raising his voice, for yet another time. “Dean please... Don't say that to me... Please...” Sam pleaded, tears threatening to run down his face. “Please...” He muttered, stretching his trembling hand towards Dean.

“Please...”

“Please...”

Back on the road, the 20th of August...

 

“Please... Sir, please, could you pay me?” This wasn't Sam's voice... “Please... Sir...” Dean blinked and found himself standing in the small store, while the cashier smiled at him. “Ummm, sorry, what did you say?” He muttered, shaking his head to clear it from all those thoughts. “Oh, pay you, of course, sorry, I'm sorry.” The middle Winchester mumbled, as he gave the money to the woman, who thanked him and nodded for the next in line to come forward. Dean dragged himself away from the spot he had been standing, but before he could exit the store, he saw Sam's figure entering.

 

“What the hell dude, what took you so long?” Sam demanded, and Dean found himself unable to answer. “Um, I was-” “Anyway, here, take the keys...” The young man said and handed the keys of the Impala to Dean. “Where are you going?” “To the bathroom, I won't be long.” “You okay?” The older hunter questioned, seeing that his brother's body was shivering. “Fine, I'll be back...” Came the answer in no time, and before Dean could do so much as blink, Sam was gone from his side, and was heading towards the back yard that the shop had, to the bathroom. “Yeah, right... Your fever, may be 'fine', but you, I'm not so sure...” Dean muttered to, the now, empty, space beside him. 

 

 

Sam managed to reach the bathroom and only then did he let his quivering breaths come out, as he could feel his body starting to shake and betray him. His knees went numb, and the young man grabbed the old sink to balance himself. He dared to look at the mirror, but the face staring back at him was not his own, no it was Dean's, Dean's pained, twisted from the hurt face... Oh God, what wouldn't Sam give, to take that pain away. Take it away... Yeah, problem was, he was the one who was inflicting it in the first place... And all Sam could do about it, was to cry, like a pathetic weakling, in some old bathroom, when no one else, was looking.  
In some bathroom, yeah... Just like that night.

 

Bobby's house, April 4.

 

“Please Dean...” Sam muttered, extending his hand towards his brother, who turned away from his touch. “Please what, Sam? Please, 'don't be mad?' Please, 'don't feel like crap?' Please, 'say that everything is alright and that, nothing is wrong?' Please what?” Dean yelled, feeling his blood turning into a sea of sorrow, which was rapidly, transforming itself into anger, burning his skin, his bones, his very soul. “Please, try and understand.... Please, do not turn away from me.” Sam replied, his voice just above a whisper. 

 

“Don't turn away...” But here, Dean's voice fainted, as a pained, almost hysterical laughter, escaped his lips. And the very next second, the bottle of whiskey was once again on his lips... Sam's eyes blurred even more, and this time, he could hold his tears back no longer. He blinked, letting them fall, but could do nothing else, for Dean lashed his hands out, taking a hold of Sam's own hands, bringing their bodies, only inches apart. “I am not the one, who's turning away! I'm not the one, who's running away! I'm not the one, who's forsaking his family and his relationship, just so he can be 'normal', and fuck some girl!” Dean yelled, gasping for breath. 

 

For just a few moments, silence fell on the room. Both brothers were broken beyond repair, but Dean was feeling so betrayed, and so very alone, yes, alone, even though Sam was right there, so he couldn't see how much his brother was hurting. Time seemed to stand still for a little while, as no movements were made, and no words were spoken. Only looks were exchanged, hurt looks, sad and weary, but above all else, looks filled with guilt, and despair... And then, it was as though time started all over again, for a river of harmful words came out of Dean's lips... 

 

 

“You knew I would have to leave Dean-” “In five Goddamn months, not now! Why do you want us to end this now?” “You must understand, Dean, I-” “You're just giving up on me, on us-” “I can't risk it, Dean-” Yeah, right, that's why you were fucking this Ellie-” “I didn't do anything-” “Yeah, yeah right, because of your feelings-” “Because I didn't want to fuck her, while you were fucking me!” Sam answered back, knowing that what he was saying, was a hit below the belt. But he could find nothing else to answer, for his own mind was blank, and overloaded with guilt and pain. 

 

God... Oh, God, Not even a bullet could cause Dean's face to twist so much with pain. Sam swallowed hard, his breath hitching, getting caught in his throat. And the very next second, his back hit the wall, as Dean lashed his body on Sam's with force. “You son of a... When did I ever, fuck you? When did I ever, put my own needs over yours? My own pleasure, over yours? I always treated you as though you could break, always, every fucking time!” Dean snarled, unable to hide the pain from filling his voice. 

 

“I didn't ask you to do so! I didn't ask you to be soft on me, when it comes to hunting and training either!” Sam replied, remembering his father's words. “Well, I'm sorry, but, that's who I am, the one who doesn't want you to dye your hands with blood, the one who cares about you! Sue me!” Dean yelled, but Sam knew he had to put an end to this now, for he couldn't take this any longer. “Yes, you're all those things, but you're also, the one who can't let go of me! But I, will, let what we have go, and I'll go away from here, whether you like it, or not!” Sam shot back, pushing his brother away.

 

Gathering up, whatever courage he had left, Sam spoke, for yet another time. Spoke, for the last time. “It is over, Dean. We're done, and I'm not changing my mind. Nothing lasts forever Dean, nothing. And one day, you'll understand that you've been wasting your life. Wasting it, on an endless battle, wasting it, on the road, on things empty, meaningless... I just hope, that you will understand it, before it's too late, before your entire life will have passed before your eyes, before the best years of it, are utterly spent.” Sam said, and Dean took several steps backwards, unable to stop himself from waving 'no', with his head.

 

“It's over Dean. We, are over.” Sam repeated, while hiding his hand behind his back, so as to be able to dig his nails into his palm, to the point of drawing blood, so as to maintain his voice steady. He then, turned around, climbing the stairs two at the time, not bothering to look back, not bearing, to look back, at his brother, who was standing still, as though he was frozen, on that same spot. No, he couldn't bring himself to do that. Thus, he fled, locking himself in Bobby's old bathroom. There, Sam let himself collapse on the floor, let the hot tears run down his face anew. And as he took a look around him, memories flooded his mind...

 

'You know, I love this place... I had you boxed up, between the wall and my own body, and then, I kissed you for the first time... Here, in this very bathroom...'

'Dean, I... I hate this bathroom...'

 

'Well, I don't want you to hate it anymore. And I want you to remember... That I’ve loved you and that I will love you more than anything, and anyone… More than, just my brother, so, so much more, than just a brother. In so many ways, wrong ways, but still… I will always, always, love you Sam.'

 

God, how he hated this bathroom...  
God, how he hated himself...

And as Sam sunk on the floor of the old bathroom, biting his lip hard, so as to hold his sobs from being too loud, he heard the sound of thick glass getting smashed, as it hit the wall with almost superhuman strength...  
Thus, the bottle of whiskey, was no more. 

 

Back on the road, the 20th of August...

 

Sam's eyes flew open, and he found himself standing in the middle of the small bathroom which the shop had to offer. Darting his head to the side, the young man got a glimpse of a woman, probably the cashier, who was picking up shards of glass, as well as, a man who was standing next to her offering money, while at the same time, holding what used to be a pack which containing six bottles of beer. Yeah, it used to be a package, for now half of them, had gone crashing down to the floor. 

 

The young hunter blew out a breath and washed his face, bracing himself as he did so. He had fooled around long enough, it was time he returned to the car. Casting one last glance at the mirror, Sam blinked at the face which was staring back at him. This time, it was his own, but Sam could barely recognize it, for it was pale, thinner than usual, and oh, so very tired... He swallowed hard and turned his back on the mirror, exiting the old bathroom.

 

 

Meanwhile, Dean had returned to his beloved Impala, taking his seat behind the wheel on which he was sure he had left his fingerprints on. His emerald eyes flicked around, while his fingers ran small circles on the leather. “And here we are Baby, here we are...” he murmured, letting his head rest on the window and his body melt, in that all too familiar leather seat. “Just me... and you right?” Dean uttered as if waiting for the car to answer him. And even though she could not do that, she knew what Dean was thinking, for she had heard those words before...

 

Bobby's house, April 4

 

“It's over Dean. We, are over.” Sam had said, fleeing upstairs as soon as the last word had escaped his lips. Sam had fled, but Dean had remained still, shaking his head in refusal. And all the middle Winchester could do was to watch, through blurred eyes, watch as his brother disappeared upstairs, shutting the bathroom's door behind him. Silence fell on the house, a deafening silence, which Dean could not bear.

 

 

The very next second however, Dean's mind was overloaded with words, Sam's words, countless words, everything his brother had said, and maybe more... Feeling dizzy, Dean shut his eyes, while trying to make the noise go away, because he couldn't stand it, no he couldn't stand hearing to all those words, which somehow ended up being summarized in one, short phrase. 'We, are over.' 'We, are over.' And the Sam inside Dean's head kept talking, but no matter what he did, the green eyed man could not make him stop. 

 

Reopening his eyes, Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table, and momentarily held it in a vice-like grip, drinking what was left inside of it, in an attempt to clear his head. 'We, are over.' There it was again, the same phrase and Dean couldn't hear it any longer. Thus his hand moved on its own, throwing the now empty bottle at the wall as though it was a dreadful relic which needed to be destroyed. Breathing heavily, Dean looked at the shattered glass, but then turned his back on it, and he literally ran out the door. Much like Sam had done, the older hunter let his feet guide him wherever they wanted to.

 

And before he could understand what had happened, he found himself standing in Bobby's yard, right in front of his beloved car. He got in and sat behind the wheel, his breathing ragged and uneven, his hands trembling and sweating, his eyes burning with unshed tears. Turning his head to the side, Dean staring at the empty seat next to him. A seat on which Sam would always find a way to lay down on... And as Sam's smiling face passed before blurring green eyes, the hunter found himself unable to control his breathing, or his tears. Like rivers they ran down his face, as if the dam, which was holding them back had finally been broken...

 

Dean lay on the front seat, curling his body into a ball, resting his head on the spot where Sam would sit and let himself break. It didn't matter that the hour was growing late, or that the wind was blowing cold outside... No, none of those things mattered. Because Dean could no longer feel anything, for sorrow and sadness had overtaken him. The only good thing was that, no one was there to behold his breakdown, no one, save his Baby.

 

For she had always been his home. And now, this dark hour of the night, she was that, and so much more. She was the home for a broken man, who had found shelter under her roof, who had found a place to lay his body to rest. And it didn't matter that he was constantly grabbing fistfuls of the leather seat, digging his nails deep inside, as he tried to breathe in between his sobs. It didn't matter that he almost broke the wheel as he tried to understand why he was feeling such excruciating pain, for something which would have had to happen anyway. Nor did it matter that he yelled that he hated her, as he was trying to fight off, all those wonderful, but now torturous memories, he and his brother had lived inside her. 

 

No, no it didn't matter, because after what seemed like an eternity, Dean's body finally went lax and almost collapsed on the front seat, shivering violently. And then, the man took in some deeper breaths, while caressing the leather underneath him. And with his voice raspy, hoarse and oh so low, he muttered... “Here we are Baby... Here we are... Just you and me right? Just you and me...”  
This was the first night, which would later be proven to be one of many, that the Impala sheltered the broken man, who then spoke to her, told her everything that had happened... Because he had nobody else to talk to. And then, somewhere around the time the sun was rising, Dean finally fell asleep, exhausted and hurt...

 

Fell asleep, with his face buried on the side of the seat on which Sam would sit, with his scent on his nose, with his smile in his mind, with his warm lap, as a pillow... And somewhere inside the house, Sam was also fast asleep in that bathroom he hated so much, with the echo of Dean's soft voice swearing love to him, as his lullaby. 

Thus ended Sam's biggest act ever, so now it was up to forces beyond his reach to decide the course of the future... And Fate as well as luck, would sometime soon be on his side...

Back on the road, the 20th of August...

 

The buzzing of the phone was what brought Dean back to the present. His eyes snapped open and he instinctively reached for his gun, before realizing it was the phone which was ringing. “Yeah?” he answered at once. “Dean where are you?” John Winchester's voice was heard from the other end of the line. “Just outside of Illinois sir, why are you asking?” “Go rent a room and I will be there early tomorrow morning.” “What? Dad, you told me the hunt was easy-” “I shouldn't have let you two go on a hunt alone.” John declared, leaving no room for an argument. “I'll be there tomorrow morning, so don't hunt this shifter alone, do I make myself clear?” “Yes sir, crystal...” Dean replied hanging up the phone... 

 

No sooner had the green eyed man hung up the phone, that Sam's figure became visible in the rear view mirror. Dean tried hard, not to fix his emerald eyes on him, but this just wasn't possible. Sighing heavily, Dean understood that Sam's fever was picking up again, making the young man shiver, despite the heat. “Great... Now the last thing I need, is you with a fever and dad on my ass...” He muttered to himself, but Sam did not hear him. “Sorry I took so long, we can now go.” Sam rasped, clearing his throat. “Here, drink some water.” Dean proposed, unable to hide the care from his voice. He then, passed his brother the bottle, flinching when his hand touched Sam's hotter one.

 

Any other time, he would have insisted on stopping, but now... Now he just started the car, which obeyed his wishes, and kept driving towards Illinois, and towards a shape shifter, whose days were less than few, and whose words to Dean, would mark the beginning of the end, of his suffering... But for now, all Dean could do, was to turn on the radio and grab the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. And as the wind blew, dry and hot, a song, which reflected Dean's feelings over the last few months echoed in the car...

And the song, sang... 

 

Day after day I keep waking up  
To find that you're slipping away  
Night after night  
I can't fight the emptiness inside  
Nothing I can say  
Now I know you're turning me away  
You're wearing a disguise  
You don't have to hide cause  
The truth is in your eyes tonight

I don't want to live a lie  
But I don't want to say goodbye...  
And I can't let you go even though it's over  
I just can't let you go  
Though your love is growing colder[...]

 

I don't want to live a lie  
But I don't want to say goodbye  
I can't let you go  
Even though it's over  
I just can't let you go[...]  
I can't let you go... even though it's over ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here ends chapter 21!!
> 
> Song: "Can't let you go"  
> Artist: Rainbow  
> Album: Bent, out of Shape  
> Year of release: 1983  
> Lyrics are from the syte: www.azlyrics.com  
> I OWN NOTHING! No money are made from this!!!!
> 
> So, I hope that you enjoyed it! Please, please, tell me what you think!!! :)  
> So, Until next time,  
> Best of wishes!!! :)


	22. When the smoke goes down, when the mirrors shatter...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a fearful shape shifter takes the form of Sam, the truth slowly comes to the light...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE, READ THIS!  
> Hello there everyone! Hope you're all doing great and that you're enjoying your time off with your friends, loved ones and family! Okay, okay you're right, this chapter was posted way too late, I know it and I am so sorry about that. Hope that you will still want to read it however!! :) I'm sorry, but the uni takes the better of me. I had obligatory projects, essential for my graduation, so I really couldn't update sooner. I HAVE NOT AND WILL NOT, ABANDON THIS STORY!
> 
>  
> 
> I really enjoy writing it and I want it to be completed.   
> I know it is not a right thing to do, keep people waiting, and if you have read any of my previous notes than you may remember me writing that same line down before.   
> But, as much as may wish for it, I am not a hunter like Sam and Dean, not even a proper writer, thus fanfiction is just a beloved hobby. Meaning that when my studies are hard, I will put them first.
> 
>  
> 
> Now, one more thing, about the tittle. The title of this chapter “When the smoke goes down, when the mirrors shatter” is based on the idiom “Smoke and Mirrors” which means   
> “An attempt to conceal or distort the truth (like a magician) in order to confuse people.” Now, as you can see, I've somewhat changed the idiom, wanting to say that the truth slowly is coming to the light and is no longer concealed, or distorted. Hence the 'broken' mirrors and the smoke which 'is going down'. (Yeah this is also a reference to the popular song “When the smoke is going down” by Scorpions) 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, a huge, huge Thank you, to my dear beta-reader GypsyPriestess, for all her hard work, for correcting my mistakes and for putting up with my really long chapters!!! :) She's awesome, doing all that while it's Christmas! Thank you!!  
> Also, a huge thank you to SamnDean 1987 and to Issraa for all their comments and their devotion, which makes me so so so happy! I deeply thank you, and your kind words make my world a better place, really!  
> Of course, as always I thank you all for taking the time to simply read this story, leave kudos or a comment!!
> 
> So, I've said too much this time... Of we go!!

THEN...

“Dean where are you?” John Winchester's voice was heard from the other end of the line. “Just outside of Illinois sir, why are you asking?” “I shouldn't have let you two go on a hunt alone.” John declared, leaving no room for an argument.“What? Dad, you told me the hunt was easy-” Go rent a room and text me the address as soon as you are inside. I will be there as soon as possible, do I make myself clear?” “Crystal sir, crystal...”Dean replied hanging up the phone.

 

No sooner had the green eyed man hung up the phone, that Sam's figure became visible in the rear view mirror. “Great... Now the last thing I need, is you with a fever and dad on my ass...” He muttered to himself, but Sam did not hear him. Any other time, Dean would have insisted on stopping, but now... 

 

Now he just started the car, which obeyed his wishes, and kept driving towards Illinois, and towards a shape shifter, whose days were less than few, and whose words to Dean, would mark the beginning of the end, of his suffering... But for now, all Dean could do, was to turn on the radio and grab the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead...

 

NOW

 

“Bobby I'm afraid I'll have to leave as soon as we're done burning the bodies.” John Winchester declared as soon as he hung up the phone. “What? You serious John?” Bobby replied gasping for air. A loud 'bang' was then heard, as Bobby let the pile of wood he had in his hands fall down and hit the ground. “The very reason you stayed here with me in the first place was so that we would burn the bodies of all those vampires we killed. So why do you want to take off, all of a sudden?” Bobby questioned, his voice tired but high pitched as well. 

 

“You heard me on the phone Bobby, this shifter in Illinois, it's too strong for the boys to handle alone. So I'll have to go and help them.” The elder Winchester replied, raising an eyebrow at the face Bobby shot him, right after the last syllable escaped his lips. “Who do you think you're lying to John?” “Excuse me?” “This isn't about the shifter, is it? You were willing to let Dean go to Illinois alone this morning and he would have done just that, if Sam hadn't insisted on joining him.” Bobby said, eyes narrowing. “Honestly Bobby, I can't understand-” “This isn't about the shifter John. This is about you, and your inability to trust in Sam, trust that he will keep his word and he will stay away from Dean.” Continued the old man, keen eyes glaring at John.

 

“You don't know what you're talking about.” John shot back after a few moments of silence. But before he could utter another word, Bobby took two large steps and grabbed John by the collar of his shirt, pushing him backwards. “For the love of God John, it's been almost five whole months since you and Sam had that... deal. And not once, has Sam let his guard down. But you still think that he won't keep his word. That's why you want to leave.” “Yes Bobby, yes, that's why I want to leave, because I don't trust Sam in this. Do you have a problem with that?” John shot back, freeing himself from the man's hold. 

 

“John... Sam wouldn't betray your deal. He can't bring himself to do that, you know it.” Bobby said, voice filled with bitterness. “Yes, because then, he will never see Stanford and he knows that.” “Is this what you think about him? After all those months... If he wanted to break your deal he would have done it John. But he didn't do it, and he won't do it, because he can't bear to hurt Dean even more.” “Oh please Dean is just fine!” “Is he? Because from what I can tell, he has never been sadder in his entire life. And you...” Here, Bobby's voice trailed off and he swallowed hard.

 

“You know it John... I know that you can see it, and I can also see that you're battling with yourself about having made the right choice.” “Are you done lecturing me? We have to burn the bodies and leave for Illinois.” “John, please-” “Enough Bobby! You've said enough, and remember that you have no right to speak of that matter.” John shot back, turning around and heading away from the other man and towards the pile of bodies which lay on the empty yard. Bobby sighed and let his eyes flutter closed and his mind travel back to when he and John had returned to the house, after Sam broke up with Dean...

 

Sioux Falls, Bobby's house, April 5, early in the morning...

 

Bobby's old, crippled car, which Dean had somehow managed to fix, was pulled off the road, and parked on a corner near the house, around the time the sun was rising. “Hope he did what he had to...” John muttered as he opened the door and got out. Bobby did the same, his heart aching at the thought of just what Sam had been asked to do. He could imagine what John had asked of him, to break up with Dean, but knowing how much those boys loved one another made it so very hard to actually believe that the young man could go on and play his role. Maybe he had spoken to Dean and had told him the truth instead... Yeah that would be better, that would be far better...

 

But all of his hopes went crashing down as he opened the front door of his house and let his gaze wonder around the small living room. A long gasp, which was then transformed into a bitter sigh escaped his lips, as his eyes took in the millions of pieces of the shattered whiskey bottle. Stepping inside with small, light steps, Bobby moved closer to the shattered glass and knelt on the floor, gathering the large pieces in his palm. “Are you still doubting that Sam honored your deal?” Questioned Bobby, voice hard and deep.

 

“Yes I am, but not because of the broken bottle. This isn't enough of a proof that they have broken up.” John replied idly, as he too, knelt down on the floor to pick up the shards of glass. “Then, why the hell are you convinced?” Bobby shot back, glaring at his friend, not knowing where all the anger he was feeling was coming from. “I know it, because Dean is sleeping in the front seat of the car.” At the sound of those words, Bobby let all the pieces of glass fall out of his grasp and got up to his feet. “Where are you going?” “To find Sam, and no, it's not something you should do John. Sam did what you asked of him, but I'm sure that can't see you just yet.” Stated the old man and headed towards the stairs, not bothering to look back at John, who couldn't bring himself to utter a single word.

 

Bobby climbed the old staircase with heavy, yet steady steps. He had made up his mind and he wouldn't change it anytime soon. Maybe John was right and the boys needed to spend some time apart, but he wasn't going to leave Sam alone in this. His steps led him to the guestroom, but to his surprise, the room was empty, and the bed tided up, as if it hadn't been used. The man knew that there was no way Sam would have slept in his own room, but he found himself checking it out nevertheless. All he found in his room however, were the old furniture and the bed, on which memories of his beloved wife were lingering on. Sam, was nowhere to be seen.

 

Bobby sighed, and pressed his hand on his face to clear his vision. “I need to clean my face up...” He muttered to himself as he turned around, heading towards the bathroom. He stopped dead-in-his tracks however, as his eyes took in the picture before him. Sam was fast asleep, his back leaning on the old bathtub, his long legs furled and his face was turned to the side, leaning on his forearms, which were leaning on the brim of the tub. “Oh Sam...” The old man muttered, a small sob escaping his lips. He stretched his hand and gently shock Sam's shoulder, waking the young man up.

 

Sam opened his eyes slowly, hesitantly even, as though he didn't want to behold the world around him. And indeed, he didn't want to face anyone, let alone Dean, for he simply couldn't. “Wake up son, come on.” “Bobby?” Sam uttered, looking at the older man as though he was but a dream, an illusion. Bobby nodded his head, sighing bitterly at the same time. He knelt next to the young man he was more often than not calling son, and took a better look. Sam's face was tired and pale, his eyes red and his cheeks tear marked. His voice was hoarse and low, and his shirt soaked with drying tears. “Is... Is dad back too?” “Yeah, but don't worry about him right now. You're a mess, come on lets get out of here-” “No, not yet... I can't come downstairs yet, I can't face dad, or...” But Sam's thin voice trailed off.

 

 

“You won't have to face Dean for now Sam.” “Why, is he... He's not here?” muttered Sam, not knowing what answer he wanted to hear. “He is here, he's just sleeping right now.” “Well, he did fall asleep at least. Must be all the whiskey he drank.” “So he emptied the bottle before breaking it?” Bobby asked and Sam nodded his head, not trusting his voice. “Sam, tell me what happened son. Tell me what John asked of you. Tell me what has happened.” “Okay... But not here, you said Dean is asleep, so he's in the next room, he could walk in any minute.” “Sam, Dean is asleep... But not here. Your father saw him sleeping in the car.” Bobby said softly, watching as Sam bit his lip hard, at the sound of those words.

 

“Talk to me Sam.” Bobby repeated, and Sam couldn't do anything else but obey. He needed to get all those things out, and Bobby was offering him a chance to open up. So he did just that. He took in a deep breath and started talking. “When dad saw us, two weeks ago, I made a deal with him. In exchange for not telling Dean that he had caught us lying together, I would have to put up an act and lie shamelessly...” And Sam kept talking, and talking, rivers of words escaping his lips, and to Bobby it seemed as though Sam was unfolding the biggest secrets of his heart. The old man couldn't care about how much time had gone by, because when Sam finally paused and looked at Bobby in the eyes, some of the lines on his forehead had faded. 

 

Silence then filled the room and Sam let his eyes close. “I don't know if you've made the right choice Sam, but now that you have chosen, you have to stand for it.” Bobby said after a while. “Yeah I... I know.” “But I... It freaking hurts Bobby... Why the hell does it hurt so much?” Sam muttered as he hugged his knees, burying his face in his hands. Sighing yet again, Bobby let his eyes flutter close. “Because what you two had... Was deep and true son. It was so very real...” Said the older man, voice low, but filled with honesty. He then got up and offered his hand to Sam, who took it without complaint. “Let's get out of here, shall we?” He spoke gently, and Sam nodded. He couldn't hide any longer.

 

Back in Missouri, the 20th of August

 

Lost in his memories as Bobby was, he didn't understand when all the bodies of the dead vampires had been piled up and burned, leaving behind them, nothing but ashes and a characteristic smell of rotten flesh being burned. It seemed as though his body was moving on its own, without his mind's consent. “So, what do you say, should we hit the road or what? It's already three o'clock, and by the time we will reach Illinois, it will be late in the afternoon.” John said, not really leaving room for any alternative choice for Bobby. “Yeah... Okay John, let's hit the road.” The other man replied, gazing at the sky, feeling the early evening's breeze caressing his darkened face. 

 

And hit the road they did, taking their usual seats in Bobby's car, with John sitting on the passenger's seat this time, while Bobby sat behind the wheel, grabbing it with both hands. And as the car started, Bobby eyed the long road lying before him, his mind battling with itself, fixed on those two boys, who by that time, had reached Illinois and had rented a room in the motel where the shifter was lurking.

 

In a motel room in Illinois, 5' o clock in the afternoon...

 

Dean let out a frustrated sigh for maybe the hundredth time since they had parked the car and rented a room. He was careful and had picked the motel where he knew the shifter had first appeared, two days ago. Turned out he and Sam were the only ones brave enough to rent a room in a motel where a kitchen employee had died, and had seemingly returned from the dead the next day, lurking around the building ever since. Presenting themselves as federal agents under training, they managed to convince the, overall sweet, brown haired owner of the motel, that it was their job to stay there and solve that case. 

 

But that wasn't the reason why Dean was sighing. After leaving their duffles in their room, Dean insisted that Sam should lay down and rest, instead of following him around, while he would go and do the usual questioning in the neighborhood. Sam however, refused to stay behind at first, but when he realized that his fever was taking the better of him, he had no other choice than to fall flat on the bed and wait for Dean to get back. And so the time went by, and noon came and was then gone, giving its place to the early hours of the afternoon, which found an emotionally and physically wrecked Dean pushing the old key in the keyhole, opening the door of the room.

 

Sighing, he glanced over to the bed. He had made sure to rent a room with two beds, in one of which Sam was lying. Well, not exactly lying on the bed, one could say, as Sam was tossing and turning, with his face deeply frowning and red flushed, his lips dry and ajar. “Great.... Just great....” Dean muttered to himself, as he stretched out his hand, grabbing Sam's shoulder, in an attempt to wake him up. God, how he hated this, being so close to Sam and not being able to comfort him like he used to. Yet another broken breath escaped his lips, as he saw tears trickling from the corners of Sam's tightly closed eyes. 

 

“Sam... Wake up, come on. We have to search the motel for the shifter, know if it's here so we can be ready to kill it when dad comes.” Dean heard himself saying, voice harder than he intended it to be. Were he to soften his voice and drop those walls he had built, were he to allow himself to get close to Sam again, even at that level, then he didn't know how he would pick up his pieces again. Besides, Sam had chosen to break up with him, so Dean couldn't blame himself for the attitude he had the last few months. Grabbing Sam's shoulder harder than before, Dean called his name again, but the younger man couldn't hear him, couldn't see him. 

 

All Sam could see, was John. Tall, strong and powerful, with an expression of utter disgust on his face, standing a few inches away from him, in Bobby's all too familiar living room. “You freak.... How could you do this with him? How could you have an affair with him? Your own brother, for the love of God!” John yelled, the words, sharp like razors in Sam's ears. “I'm sorry dad, please I'm begging you, try to understand.” Sam begged, voice cracking, but his father wouldn't listen.

 

 

He looked at him once again, raising his gun, removing the safety, pointing it at Sam's bare chest. “No, please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” The young man repeated countless times, but his cries were falling on deaf ears and at some point, were interrupted by the sound of the trigger being pulled. The sound was deafening, too loud and yet, maybe not loud enough, because Sam could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, he could feel his heart slamming into his ribs. 

 

 

Shutting his hazel eyes tightly waiting for the pain to come, Sam couldn't think of anything, or anyone save from Dean. God, how would Dean react when he found his body? He would be devastated, and hurt, but maybe, he would learn to live a better, safer, normal life without him. Yeah, maybe he would... With that rather dark thought being the only one in his mind, Sam clenched his fingers into fists and did the only thing he could do. He waited.

 

He waited and waited, for the pain to come, but nothing happened. He then, opened his eyes, staring at his chest, but found no hole ripped through him. What he did find however, was Dean's lifeless body, lying bloodied, like a red carpet at his feet. His green eyes still open, yet blind, were staring back at Sam, who couldn't move an inch. And they were peaceful and calm, at last, for the first time in months, sending only one message to wide, wet hazel ones. “I love you Sammy.” Unable to stay on his feet, Sam fell to his knees, beside Dean, lifting his eyes to look at his father.

 

But it wasn't John who was staring back at him, no, it was another Sam, a perfect replica, a reflection in a mirror. “What... How... Why...” The real Sam uttered and was cut off by his own laughter, which came from the Sam holding the gun. “John would never harm Dean. But you... Your actions, your words, hurt him. Hurt him so deep that he feels like he is dying every minute of every day.” The Sam with the gun said triumphantly. “Yes, dear Sammy, he is dying inside, and it's your fault!”

 

 

“Oh, but don't look away Sam, don't be so scared to face yourself. Don't turn away from me!” The Sam with the gun repeated, watching the real Sam, turn his gaze on Dean's still, ashen cold face. “You're not me...” He uttered brokenly, his shaking hands trembling over Dean's chest. “ I am you and you know it! And guess what else is it that you know! You know that it was your fault John caught you!” “How could I have known that-” “You should have thought of it! Aren't you the smart one? The one who wants to become a lawyer? Huh?” The Sam with the gun questioned, voice now low, filled with hate and despair. 

 

“You should have called Bobby, to double check the information!” “I'm sorry...” The real Sam muttered, hands caressing Dean's ashen-cold face. “So... So... So sorry...” “It's not me you should apologize to! It's him! Look, look at him, lying there, dead because of you!” “I didn't mean to... Everything I did, I did for you Dean, everything-” “Oh stop your pathetic whining already!” The other Sam shot back, voice ice-cold. “You cause nothing but pain and anguish to him!” The Sam with the gun yelled, but the real Sam couldn't bear to listen to this anymore.

 

 

“Forgive me Dean, please, forgive me...” he whispered again, tears from his hazel eyes, falling down on Dean's cold, lifeless cheeks, as everything around them started to disappear. “That's right beg him, beg him to not hate you, beg him! Too bad he can't hear you!” The Sam with the gun said, voice sharp and cold. “Don't hate me...” Sam pleaded brokenly, not only in his dream and Dean's green eyes widened. “Sam, wake-” “No, please Dean...” Sam uttered, more tears escaping his closed eyelids, wetting Dean's trembling fingers, which were ghosting over each side of Sam's pained face. 

 

Dean's face darkened at the sound of those words, the pain and bitterness with which they had been spoken made something inside the older hunter snap. “I did it for you, everything, everything for you...” “What have you done for me Sam?” Dean questioned, as a shiver ran down his spine. But Sam didn't answer, as his face frowned even more. “What Sam, what have you-” “Everything, the lies, all those lies, don't hate me, don't... Please...”But Sam's trembling, thin voice fainted, and Dean was left dumbstruck, kneeling at Sam's side, pressing his right hand on his face, while clenching the fingers of his left hand, which was so close to Sam's forehead, into a fist yet again.

 

“Hate you... A part of me has tried to do that Sam... The part of me that knows only one way to deal with things has tried to raise a wall, of solid rock inside of me, so that I won't feel all this... Pain.” Here, Dean's voice trailed off, and the older man cleared his throat, speaking again. “I've tried to do it, because you're so close and yet, I can not touch you. You're only inches away and yet, I can not kiss you. Your face is pained because of your way too vivid nightmares and yet, my hands are afraid to caress it... I look you in the eyes now that they are shut, because I can't let myself get lost in their depth...” Dean whispered, his face only inches from Sam's.

 

“So yeah, I've tried to hate you... But I can't Sam, I could never...” At that point, the green eyed man risked running his fingers through Sam's messed up hair. “I could never hate you, or leave you... Because I've nowhere else to go. Because... Because I love you Sam... Sammy...”Dean uttered through clenched teeth, while letting his lips linger on Sam's forehead, barely touching the sweaty skin.

 

 

Inhaling deeply, Dean did let himself feel, for just a few heartbeats, he let himself feel Sam's skin, feel the the softness of his brown locks, smell that all too familiar scent which was all Sam. The next moment however, the green eyed hunter used every bit of willpower he had, in order to pull himself to his feet and away from Sam, who was slipping away from the deadly claws of his own mind, and into awareness. 

 

Hazel eyes flew open, as Sam bolted upright in the small bed, his face ashen, haunted by the images he had seen in his nightmare. His whole body was stiff and Dean could tell by the way Sam was taking in small, ragged breaths, that his dreams were hellish, filled with darkness and gore, filled with Dean's own lifeless body. 

 

 

“Hey... Wake up, sleeping beauty, we have to get to work.” Dean heard himself saying, voice sharp and annoyed. But God, those were neither the words he wanted to speak, nor the tone he wanted to use. But once again, the walls inside him had risen, preventing him from giving in to his burning need to comfort his brother. At the sound of those words, Sam turned his eyes to him, making Dean's breath get caught in his throat. Filled with fear and with so much guilt were those hazel eyes, glassy and big, with a slight hue of blue and green somewhere in between.

 

“D-Dean? You... Are you alright?” Sam uttered, his voice breaking towards the end. “Yeah, now stop sitting on your ass and get up, we have to go and search the motel for the shifter. You wanted in, so you get to come with me.” The green eyed man said, keeping his voice low, distant even, as he took Sam's gun from the table, loaded it with silver bullets and then offered it to his still shivering younger sibling.“Shape- shifter equals silver bullet through the heart.” Dean said and Sam took the gun in his grasp hesitantly, letting his long fingers touch the inside of Dean's wrist as he did so. 

 

 

“I'm sorry, for everything.” Sam whispered all of a sudden, as he hooked his fingers on the sleeve of Dean's shirt. Feeling the hold on the sleeve of his shirt, the older man halted for a second and momentarily flicked his emerald green eyes from the floor to Sam and then back. The hurt in Sam's fragile voice was audible, it was the same tone he had used in his sleep. The hold he had on Dean's sleeve was shaky and weak, yet it was there, acting as an anchor for the young man. 

 

 

“What are you sorry for, Sam?” Dean questioned, speaking after a minute of utter awkwardness. “For everything...” Sam repeated, looking at his lap. “'Everything', you say, yet there aren't many things you have to apologize for, not to me at least. For me, there is only one apology that counts, but that one I'll never get. So don't waste time, come on already.” Dean said,voice filled with bitterness. As he was done talking, he moved away from Sam's bed and towards the door, his own gun in hand. 

 

 

Sam almost choked on his own spit as he heard those words, and his eyes fell on Dean, who had now turned his back on him. “Dean... You know I am so sorry about... About us.” He uttered, bringing the hand which had grabbed Dean's sleeve closer to his chest, brushing his fingers together. “No Sam, no, you're not sorry.” Answered the older hunter, feeling the warmth of his shirt where Sam had touched it. It was fading away already. “You're not sorry at all.” Said Dean, getting out of the small room, whose walls were suddenly closing in around him. 

 

 

Sam clenched his fingers into a fist and let his eyes flutter close. “You're killing him, he is dying inside...” He heard that all too familiar voice which was dwelling in his subconscious, screaming at him. But this time, Sam had no time to waste. He got up, put on his shoes and exited the room, following Dean down the hall. As the boys reached the reception, a piercing scream was heard. Casting a look to Sam, Dean nodded his head, giving the signal which could mean only one thing. Run. 

 

 

And ran they did, covering the remaining distance to the owner's office in less than fifteen seconds. The woman was on the floor, covering her mouth with her hand. A man was standing a few feet away, holding a kitchen knife in one hand and a gun in the other. He was blond, with brown eyes, somewhere around forty years old. Sam, who was faster than Dean, clenched his fingers into fists again, trying, but failing, to punch the man before he had the time to raise his gun and fire with it. The man swung his knife and Sam had to take several steps backwards, hitting the owner's office as he did so.

 

 

“Is that the dead kitchen employee?” Dean yelled and the woman rasped “yes” with trembling voice. But before anyone could blink, the shape- shifter ran towards the door and managed to get out of the motel. “He's going to the back yard, that's where he died...” The woman uttered and Dean waited no longer. “Take her somewhere safe!” He ordered, not bothering to look at Sam, as he started running, following the shape- shifter, his gun in his hand. “Dean, wait! Dean! Dad said not to face him alone!” Sam yelled, but the green eyed man was already out of the door.

 

“Dean wait! Dean! Dad said not to face him alone!” The green eyed man heard his brother's call, but couldn't stop now, he had to catch up to the shifter. Turning left, Dean found himself in the motel's parking lot, where his Baby was parked. “Where the hell did he go?” He muttered to himself, tightening his hold on his gun. “Jesus... God what the fuck...” At the sound of those words Dean lowered his gun just a little bit. Because this was Sam's voice which Dean heard. Turning around the corner, Dean's mouth fell open, and his eyes widened. Right in front of him, stood Sam, with a gun and a knife in his hand.

 

“I wouldn't risk coming closer if I were you, dear brother.” 'Sam' said, pointing the gun straight at Dean's chest. “You're not my brother, you freak.” Said the green eyed hunter, body tensing up as he beheld the shifter had taken on the shape of his beloved brother. “Oh, if you want to see it that way, then you're not a federal agent in training either.” Shifter-Sam said, his lips turning into a smile as he saw Dean's expression darkening. “How do you know that?” “Because I am your brother-slash- lover. Oh sorry, I mean ex-lover.” Shifter-Sam replied, lancing his body at Dean's in a blink of an eye, grabbing Dean's right hand, with which he was holding the gun, in a vice-like grip. At the same time, the shifter furled his free hand, hitting Dean hard on the ribs.

 

“You bastard! You're not my brother you hear me?” Dean yelled, as he hit the shifter's arm, making him drop the knife, but not the gun. Retreating many steps backwards again, Dean saw that the shifter's gun, was still pointed at his chest. “Maybe you're right... I'm different. I'm nobody, a shadow, a soulless being. They say that a camera can trap a soul inside a picture. That's why my kind's eyes reflect white on the camera. That's why I can change my shape and become anyone I wish.” “Are you done with the drama? Is this where I stop to wipe my tears?” Dean said, voice pure poison, taking step after step to his left, while shifter-Sam took step after step to the right, gun still pointed at Dean's chest.

 

 

“You know... Dean, yeah Dean is your name.” Shifter-Sam said, covering the distance hunter and hunted had, as he stepped on Dean's foot hard, making the older man moan in pain. As he took a step backwards, Dean tried to maintain the hold he had on his gun. “You know Dean, Sammy here is a special case, I've never seen such a troubled mind before!” The shifter said, using his free hand to hit Dean again, this time, managing to make the hunter drop the gun he was holding. “What are you-” But shifter-Sam wouldn't let the hunter utter a word, as he attacked him again, using every bit of knowledge Sam had, when it came to hand-in-hand combat. 

 

 

“What am I talking about? I'm talking about the fact that I have taken his form, thus I know what is inside this little head of his.” Shifter-Sam replied gasping, as Dean clenched his fingers into fists and lanced onward. “And man, has he saved your sorry ass!” Muttered the shifter, as he managed to avoid Dean's punch. “Oh but he doesn't want you to know!”He continued, smiling ironically, as Dean couldn't bring himself to properly hit the shifter. “Well, maybe I should tell you, yes that would be so much fun!” “Shut up! You filthy supernatural piece of shit!” Dean rasped, finally landing a hit on the shifter's ribs.

 

 

“Come on Dean, fight me seriously, besides, your brother thinks he deserves the beat down, after all those lies he has told you, all this pain he has caused you!” Shifter-Sam said, leaning forward, kicking Dean's leg. Squirming, the older hunter took even more steps backwards, putting his hands before his face, to protect himself from the next vicious blow. “Lies yes, all those lies, about how he wanted you two to break up...” Here, Shifter-Sam paused, grabbing Dean by the collar of his shirt to meet his eyes.

 

 

“When he said he was sorry about everything, he meant it you know.” The shifter said and Dean found himself drowning in those eyes... “What the hell-” “You are allured by those eyes, aren't you? You should be able to see what this one here thinks of your green eyes...” Shifter-Sam muttered, his face inches from Dean's. “Let me go you-” “He is indeed, so sorry, for all those lies he has told you, he is so sorry that he hurt you, that he broke up with you...” “What lies are you talking about?” Dean heard himself asking, not knowing why he was even listening to all these things.

 

“Oh yeah, lies which he was obliged to say to you. You see that's what happens, when your father-” But the shifter couldn't finish the sentence, as Dean used his hands to push him away and then punch him hard, twice, once with each hand. “Shut up, and don't you dare to mention my father-” “This is what happens when your father catches you in bed with your brother! Your father threatened Sammy, that he would send you to stay with Caleb and would sent him to that priest, Pastor Jim, should he not break up with you...” “Shut the hell up, you filthy liar!” Dean rasped, pushing the shifter hard on the ground, reaching for his gun, which the shifter had thrown away.

 

But he wasn't fast enough, as shifter-Sam managed to push the gun out of Dean's reach with his hand, while stretching his leg, to lay a strong hit on Dean's lower belly, making the hunter fall to his knees. Taking advantage of Dean's half closed eyes, shifter-Sam got on his feet, grabbing the knife which the hunter had made him drop. In two large steps, he covered the distance between them, getting himself behind Dean. The green eyed man however, managed to get back on his feet, but this was exactly the chance the shifter was looking for, as he grabbed Dean's arm, holding it behind the hunter's back with one hand, while with his other hand, he let his knife ghost over the hunter's neck.

 

“Ah, no I wouldn't recommend moving too much as you try to free yourself from my hold.” “Shut up-” “Do you know, that he has told your father he started your relationship? He told him he convinced you for what you were doing was not wrong! And he even made a deal with him!” Shifter-Sam said, his lips brushing on Dean's ear. “Get off of me you liar!” Dean demanded, trying to push the creature a few inches away, only to feel the blade making a small cut on his neck. “But I'm not lying, and it all makes sense, if you actually think about it! He has been lying all those months and your stupid ego hasn't let you see it!” The shifter said, and the hunter felt his heart beating faster by the second.

 

 

“And you surely have noticed the dreams he's been having... Well more like hellish nightmares, like the one he had earlier about you-” “Let him go you son of a bitch!” A firm voice cut the shifter off, making Dean's breath hitch. “Oh and here comes our last player!” Said the shifter, pulling Dean even closer to him, pressing the knife on his neck, smiling as he saw a few red drops of blood staining the blade. 

 

 

“Took you long enough... Sammy.” Shifter-Sam muttered, his voice soft but filled with irony. “I said...” Here Sam paused, removing the safety of his gun, pointing at the shifter who had taken his form, “...let him go.” The young man said firmly. “Or what? You can't shoot me through the heart, unless you want to rip a hole in his chest as well Samy.” “Or, I can just shoot you in the head. And don't call me Sammy”. Sam replied at once, raising his gun a little higher, while fixing his eyes on Dean's. “Oh how haven't I thought of that... Oh wait, I actually have...” shifter-Sam said, casting a disturbingly innocent smile downwards, so that Dean could see it. 

 

 

“You can indeed shoot me in the head. But as I fall, I will drag my blade across his neck which will result in him choking on his own blood. But yeah, you can try it!” “Sam, don't listen to this thing and shoot it right in the head!” Dean said, seeing that Sam was hesitating. “Funny thing isn't it? How dreams can come true...” The shifter said, but Dean spoke again. 

 

 

“Sam, do it, shoot this piece of shit- Agh!” “Don't you know it's rude to interrupt someone when they're talking?” The shifter said, dragging the blade a few more inches across Dean's neck, making more blood ooze out, and Sam take a step back, while somewhat loosening the hold he had on his gun. “Why are you doing this?” Sam questioned all of a sudden. “I'm sorry, what? Oh, now you're playing the lawyer aren't you?” “I'm not playing-” “I'm doing it, cause it's fun... And because I like being someone. I like having an identity, and yours, is stunning.” Shifter-Sam replied, voice low, hurt almost. 

 

 

“Oh for the love of God Sam, shoot it!” Dean yelled, but all he got in return was yet another, deeper cut along the length of his neck, which made him quiet down. “That's better. Now, where was I, oh yeah, that thing about dreams...” The shifter said, as Sam pointed him at his head with the gun yet again. 

 

 

“Not an hour ago you had a similar dream, am I right? You dreamed that it was you who was pointing at Dean with a gun, you dreamed that he saved you from a bullet which, in the end, was fired by your own hand.” “That's a lie.” Sam declared, not lying well enough this time. “Oh yeah? Shall I speak of the twisted, dreadful dream you had in detail, so that you will believe me?” “Sam, don't listen to this-” “In the end, it was you who had killed him, and his body was lying like a carpet on your feet.” Shifter-Sam said, watching as the real Sam started to shake.

 

 

“Shut up... You're lying...” “No Sam, no I'm not the one who has been lying...” The shifter said, dragging Dean a few steps backwards yet again, hiding his face behind Dean's shocked one as much as possible. “That's right Sam, remember the glassy green eyes, filled with so much love, the ashen cold face... Remember the crimson blood all over him, and then shoot me... Or well, shoot him... Shoot your brother, whom you are trying to protect...” Said the shifter, voice almost hypnotizing. And as flashes of of that dream passed before Sam's blurring, hazel eyes, the clock struck six o'clock in the afternoon. 

 

 

At the same time, the sun was bathing everything in a great, heartwarming, dark yellow light. As the clock was striking for the fifth time, Sam was pointing a gun, trying to kill a shape-shifter who was using Dean as a shield. As a dove flew above them, green eyes met Sam's scared hazel ones, and an all too familiar old, crippled car, carrying Bobby and John, was being pulled off the road, on the front side of the motel. 

 

 

“So, Sammy, which one is it going to be? Are you going to shoot him, oh sorry, I meant me, are you going to shoot me, or not?” The shifter asked, and for Sam, time was once again, standing still. But not for Dean, whose mind was trying to understand what had been missing all those months...  
God, what if it was indeed true? Could their father be aware of their relationship? And more importantly, could everything Sam had told Dean over the past five months be nothing more, than a forced act?  
Dean couldn't let himself do that, the creature was a supernatural piece of crap, and those things tend to lie.  
But what if it wasn't lying?  
God, how could Dean let himself hope such a thing...?  
God, how could he not hope for it...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here ends chapter 22! I hope that you liked it! Truth is it was hard to write especially the fight between the shifter and Dean, so please forgive me if it wasn't that good.  
> Please tell me what you thought of it if you want!  
> Until next chapter, I give you the best of wishes for great Christmas and a Happy new year, with love, health and good luck!
> 
> Love you all!!!


	23. Rake over the ashes, you may still find a flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is held captive by the shape-shifter, but his mind dwells to the past, as he dares to take a stroll down the memory line for yet another time. 
> 
> Dares, to rake over the ashes and slowly begins to understand that something has been wrong with his brother for a long time. 
> 
> As the shifter dies, and the flame fades away from the creature's eyes, the flame in Dean's heart lights up again, giving life to the green eyed hunter, who sees the truth at last...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and yeah, back at last... Okay, so there is not much to say, because my computer is actually on the verge of falling apart, so I can't write much. Thank you all, as always, for all the support, I hope that you are still enjoying the story.   
> No beta reader this time, because I was afraid I would lose the chapter, since my computer is really barely working, so I needed to post this.  
> Sorry if it's filled with mistakes. 
> 
> Still, I hope that you'll enjoy.  
> Off we go!!

THEN...  
“So, Sammy, which one is it going to be? Are you going to shoot him, oh sorry, I meant me, are you going to shoot me, or not?” The shifter asked, and for Sam, time was once again, standing still. But not for Dean, whose mind was trying to understand what had been missing all those months...  
God, what if it was indeed true? Could their father be aware of their relationship? And more importantly, could everything Sam had told Dean over the past five months be nothing more, than a forced act? Dean couldn't let himself do that, the creature was a supernatural piece of crap, and those things tend to lie.  
But what if it wasn't lying?  
God, how could Dean let himself hope such a thing...?  
God, how could he not hope for it...? 

NOW...

 

Dean was standing frozen on the spot, unable to talk, to utter one single word, unable to further encourage Sam to shoot at the shifter, who had somehow managed to take the upper hand in the fight he just had with Dean and was now challenging Sam to aim and fire at him, while he was using Dean's own body as a shield. No, Dean couldn't speak, not out of fear for his life, which would have paralyzed any other person, but because his mind was pre-occupied with different thoughts, than those of blood, death and agony.

 

Thoughts about how Sam was shaking as the shifter was talking, thoughts about how what the creature had told him, seemed to be filling the blanks inside Dean's mind, which was traveling back in time, revisiting painful memories. Only this time, Dean was doing that with a sparkle of hope in his soul, instead of a veil of anguish. And as his mind traveled on, Dean's eyes blurred. 

 

 

'It would all make sense if you could actually think about it...' And Dean was thinking about it... 'I'm sorry about everything Dean, I'm so sorry about...Us.' Sam had said, and if Dean wanted to be honest, Sam's voice had sounded hurt and broken beyond measure. And further back he went...

 

'What I'm doing is not easy Dean, but is something that has to be done...' Sam had said as he was trying to break up with him. 'Something that has to be done...' Dean felt his free hand twitching all of a sudden. 'Why does this has to happen?' Countless were the times, Dean had tortured his mind with the answer to that very question, because he didn't want to accept Sam's pathetic one. Yet, he seemed unable to find a better one, since there seemed to be none. 

 

Until now, that is. 'He has been lying all those months and your stupid ego hasn't let you see it!' Shifter-Sam had declared, leaving no room for an argument. 'My ego...' The green eyed man thought, biting the inside of his cheek. His attitude had indeed been, the worst possible one. He had withdrawn himself from Sam, didn't even act as his brother anymore. But he had no other way to deal with things, that Dean knew for sure.

 

 

The hunter darted his head to the side as much as he could, catching a glimpse of Sam. The kid was trying his best to battle his inner fear of Dean getting hurt because of him, but the green eyed hunter could see he was losing the battle. “Well Sammy... have you made up your mind?” The shifter said, and Dean's eyes widened, as his mind was now clearing, from thoughts about himself, and was focusing back on Sam's attitude. 

 

 

'I need some time to think Dean, some time to make up my mind... Think if what we have can work, without ruining everything.' 'It's not our relationship which will ruin everything, which will rob you of your ticket to Stanford. It's your inability to be a good son and get along with dad.' Dean had then shot back, but couldn't see how much Sam had been hurting, for his own pain was blinding him.

 

 

But now, after all this time, he actually could remember, Sam's face, twisted from anguish, the sadness in his eyes, the pain in his voice... God, how could he have been so blind? Of course, one could easily argue, that the pain Sam was feeling, had nothing to do with any conspiracy, played behind Dean's back, or with any kind of forced act Sam had to perform. He could just be sad because he was breaking up with Dean and nothing more. But the more Dean was thinking this possibility, the more impossible it seemed to be.

 

Sam may be a lot of things, but he sure wasn't a heartless person. Sam seemed to care about every living thing, even for those things which didn't belong to what people called normal creatures. And Dean would actually be a very absurd liar, were he to claim that his brother did not love him, even after their breakup. So yes, as Dean let his mind wander in memories of the past few months again, the image of Sam's face passed before his eyes.

 

 

And Dean could now see, that for the past five months or so, Sam's face had been pale, and always shadowed, thin and tired, with lines which could only be identified as lines of guilt and self loathing on his forehead. God, where was Dean all those months? Why hadn't he seen all that pain in his brother's face? The kid hadn't even tried to hide it, and yet, Dean hadn't let himself close to him, well not close enough as it would seem, so as to be able to acknowledge all the lines on his face, all those emotions, which otherwise, he would have been able to read... 

 

 

And as his mind was traveling further back in time, his heart was beating even faster... He needed to find when had this all begun... It had started at Bobby's, Sam had started acting strangely late at night hadn't he? But nothing had happened that day, apart from their narrow escape from been caught by John- And if they had already been caught?- Dean blinked, taking in a sharp breath.

 

 

'Sammy here, has made a Deal with your father...' Even if the shifter's words were true, this couldn't be possible, because Dean had been with Sam all day long. He had only left him to take a shower... A shower... 'What the Hell is wrong with you Sam, why the hell, are you turning away from me? You were fine all day, but ever since I went upstairs to take a freaking shower you-' But Dean could remember Sam interrupting him saying that he wasn't fine...

 

 

'Fine? No, Dean, I've never been as far from the word 'fine', as I have come to be today!' But the real question, was the why Sam had been in the yard to begin with, because that was where Dean had found him, shaking from exhaustion. But Dean couldn't find an answer to that, not at first at least. But he eventually remembered, John had said that Sam had gotten out because he needed air... His father had been the first to talk, right after Dean had closed his mouth, as if he had already thought of the answer he would give Dean, should the green eyed man ask him.

 

 

The hunter's thoughts were interrupted however, as he was brought back to the dreadful present, by the feeling of a blade cutting deeper in his neck. “So Sammy, I'm tired of waiting, which one is it going to be?” The shifter asked and Dean's eyes widened, falling on the real Sam, who was standing a few feet away. He was tensed and his brow was stained with sweat, as adrenaline was running through his veins. “Let him go.” Sam repeated, but the shifter had grown tired of that game. 

 

“I said no, now make a choice! Come on, he's in danger, protect him, repay him for what he has done for you, back then when he had shielded you with his own body... Or is it that you think you've already repaid him, by making that Deal with your father?” The shifter said, smiling wickedly, and Dean went numb. “Shut up, you are lying! I made no deal with anyone!” Sam rasped, but the shake of his hands was enough to betray him. 

 

Swallowing soundly, Sam's frame trembled visibly and Dean's eyes opened wide. “No... It can't be...” The green eyed man murmured in between his teeth, not feeling the warm blood running down his neck. No, he could no longer feel neither the pain of the blade, not the caressing touch of the wind on his face, hell, he couldn't even make out his surroundings. He knew those words the shifter had just spoken, he had heard them before... He had uttered them himself...

 

 

'You would never let me shield you, like you did, you’ve done it more than once, but you would never let me help you, protect you, or anything else…' Sam had yelled, slamming his then, injured hand on Bobby's desk forcibly. And Dean knew what had been said next, for it had been him who had uttered the words. 'You don’t have to, Sammy. You don’t have to repay me for anything I do for you baby boy...' “Why so surprised Dean? I told you, I know what's inside his head, from the moment I took his form.” Shifter-Sam announced, shrugging his shoulders.

 

Dean's eyes moved then, from the shifter to the real Sam, who bit his lip, muttering 'no' in a quivering voice. “Yes Sammy, a thousand times yes. I know everything! Everything!” Shifter-Sam exclaimed, cutting Dean's neck for yet another time... “Stop!” Sam yelled, aiming his gun on the creature again, but for yet another time, his hands weren't steady enough to fire without hitting Dean as well. 

 

“Why stop? I can kill him right here, right now, right before your very eyes! And his death will be your fault! Just like it would have been back then, when he shielded you from those werewolves.” “Shut up you piece of garbage!” Dean hissed, but his words didn't seem to reach Sam.“Yes, I should kill him, he is going to die, because of you, just like your mother did!” “No, that's not true-” Sam said, but the shifter spoke again, cutting the hunter off. 

 

“Why not, because Dean said so, all those months ago?” Shifter-Sam yelled, tightening his hold on Dean's arm, which by now, had been strained, to say the least.“Well, guess what, Dean won't be around to say that to you anymore!” The shifter yelled, raising his knife, ready to stub the green eyed man on the chest, ready to kill him off for good...

 

Meanwhile, on the other parking lot the motel had, on the front side...

 

“Drag your feet a little faster Bobby, we don't have all evening you know! It's already six o'clock!” “I know what time it is John, I heard the freaking clock!” Bobby replied, shutting the door of his car closed. “Yeah, and that was five minutes ago Bobby, come on!” Turning around, Bobby sighed, following John inside the motel. His mind however, was fixed on that morning, five months ago...

 

Sioux Falls, Bobby's house, April 5, early in the morning...

Bobby got up from his bathroom's floor, and offered his hand to Sam, who took it without complaint. “Let's get out of here, shall we?” He spoke gently, and Sam nodded. He couldn't hide any longer. “Sam... You need to act like nothing is wrong. You're actually dragging your feet down the stairs, so it won't take long for Dean to understand that something is seriously wrong with you.” The older hunter said, eyes falling on Sam's hunched shoulders, as soon as the young Winchester had clamped down the stairs.

 

“Understand that something is wrong...” Sam muttered, voice broken. “Everything is wrong Bobby, everything...” He continued, heading towards the wooden desk the old man had, trying to find comfort in the one and only thing which could clear his mind a little. The countless books Bobby had. The old man sighed and let his eyes fall closed. After a few seconds of silence however, heavy steps were heard, and Sam's breath hitched. “So you did find Sam as it seems.” John's voice, strict and hard, echoed in the living room. 

 

“John, I was going to-” “How are you doing Sam?” The elder Winchester asked his son, whose eyes filled with anger as soon as the last word escaped John's lips. “How am I doing? Is that the best you could come up with as a question?” Sam shot back, voice sharper than a knife. “Hey, hey, both of you chill out. I'm going outside for a moment okay? Make sure to not kill each other while I'm gone!” Bobby said, stepping in between father and son, making them move away from one another. Then the old man turned around and got out of the house. He needed to see Dean...

 

And he did see him, for the middle Winchester had woken up, assuming he had managed to sleep more than an hour, and had got out of the car. “Dean, I was coming to wake you up son.” Bobby muttered and his heart sank at the sight of the green eyed hunter before him. Wretched and broken he was, his eyes clouded and red, no longer shining like they used to. For a split second, just one second, Bobby could swear that Dean looked like he had died and had been brought back from the dead. 

 

 

“Son... I'm not your son Bobby.” The younger man replied, and Bobby's eyes narrowed. Dean had spoken like that before, and had then continued, saying that he sometimes wished he and Sam were his sons. But now, Bobby couldn't hope for such words to be heard. “Dean, did something happen?” he asked, careful not to give himself away. “I'm not your son...” Dean repeated after a few minutes of utter silence. “Dean-” “But I know you love me as such.” The younger hunter said, eyes fixed on his shoes. Bobby swallowed hard and nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak.

 

“If you do indeed love me Bobby, then you have to answer me one question.” “What is it Dean?” “I know that Sam needs to talk to somebody, needs to get things out. It may take him a while, but eventually he opens up, doesn't bottle up his emotions, like I tend to do.” Dean spoke, voice hoarse and low, filled with bitterness, yet Bobby could hear fading traces of hope in the background. “I don't understand Dean, what does this have to do with-” “Two weeks ago... When I got out here on the yard, to get him back in the house... He was different, he wasn't himself.” Dean said, and then stopped talking. Bobby waited.

 

“Back then, I thought he was lying, or that he was way too stressed and upset, and he had every right to be, considering that dad... Well, you saw what he had done to him.” Dean muttered, and Bobby could now see what Dean would ask him. “Dean-” “So for those two weeks, ever since we left here, I've been trying to approach him, to find out if he's lying. I've never wanted a person to be lying as much as I want Sam.” Dean rasped, but despite the lump in his throat, kept talking.

 

“But yesterday... What he did yesterday, the way he spoke, the way he...” Here, the hunter's voice fainted and Bobby felt his heart aching. “Well, lets just say that he made it clear that he wasn't lying.” Dean eventually said, clenching his fingers into fists. “So Bobby... If you do love me like a son... I need you to answer me this. Has Sam spoken to you about... About anything? About going to Stanford, about wanting to quit hunting... About wanting to leave...” “About wanting to leave you?” Bobby muttered, completing the phrase Dean couldn't bring himself to utter. 

 

 

The green eyed man found himself bowing his head and nodding it at the same time. Bobby remained silent for a few deafening heartbeats, not knowing what to answer to Dean's question. 'As much as you may want it, they are not your sons...' A voice within his head said, and Bobby let his eyes flutter closed. 

 

Tick, tok, tick tok, the seconds pass, and move along, never to return. Some of them, pass silently, while others are crucial, marking the making of a choice which can be proven life-changing. And at some point, all of us will be called forward, and be obliged to make such a choice... And Bobby's time had come. It wasn't the first time he had to make a hard choice, but every time seemed to be tougher than the previous one. 

 

“Bobby?” Dean asked, and the older man could see that Dean's last hopes were hanging from the answer he would give him. “No Dean... No. Sam hasn't spoken to me about anything, not in a while.” Came the answer from the older hunter, and for a few moments, Dean seemed to be frozen on the spot. “He asked you to break up?” The hunter asked quietly, trying to sound surprised. If he didn't succeed, Dean didn't seem to notice. The green eyed man just shrugged at Bobby's question, finding no words to say.

 

“I don't know what happened Dean, but if you want to talk-” “No need to talk about decisions which are already made, we will just waste our time.” Dean shot back, as he started to move towards the house, body stiff and tensed. “Dean... I know it's hard, but you knew this would happen-” “Don't get there Bobby, cause you can't know how I feel. You just can't.” “Well, you look as if you have been stabbed, so I can guess that it can't be good.” Bobby said, voice bitter. 

 

 

“Stubbed, huh? Well, I may have as well been stabbed. Sure as hell it feels like it. But time will tell, won't it?” Dean uttered, feeling tears on the corners of his eyes. “Time will tell what Dean?” “Everything... Time will tell what will come down upon us. Yeah, time... Time will tell.” Dean muttered one more time, before disappearing in Bobby's house, leaving the older hunter standing by the Impala, unable to stop the few teardrops from trickling down his cheeks...

 

Back in Illinois, the 20th of August...

 

“Hey Bobby, what the hell are you doing? You seemed lost.” John yelled and the other man blinked at him, and then followed his commands, catching up to him, so that they would be entering the motel side by side. “I'm sorry, I was just thinking-” “We're on a hunt Bobby, you should focus on it, for your own good.” John replied as he pushed the door of the motel open.

 

 

“I'm sorry, madam, we-” But John was greeted with the pale face of the woman Sam had hid behind the office a little while ago. “W-Who are you?” The woman rasped, stumbling upon her feet in her attempt to get away from John. “Madam, please don't panic, we have business here.” John replied, eyeing the scared woman from head to toe. 

 

 

“Calm down, we are just looking for two young feds-” “God, are you caps or something? Please, this... Whatever it is, the thing which has taken the form of my kitchen employee, or his ghost, or I don't  
know what it might be-” “Did you see it?” Bobby asked, cutting off the woman, who seemed unable to stop talking. “Yes he... It... It came here, threatened me with a knife and-” “Where is it now?” John rasped, taking a hold of his gun, which he kept on him at all times. 

 

 

“Outside, on the back side, on the second parking lot...” The woman replied, but before she could get another word out of her mouth, both Bobby as well as John were out of the door Dean had been as well, a few minutes earlier. “Shit!” Bobby cursed aloud, as he turned left, finding himself on the parking lot and beheld a dreadful picture before him. John was next to him a few heartbeats later, eyes wide, mouth ajar. “We have to-” “We can't do anything from here John, one wrong move and Dean drops dead.” Bobby cut him off, dragging them both behind the Impala, which was parked there.

 

“Bobby what the hell-” “Think John, not even Sam, who is right before the shifter can aim well enough!” “Well, I'm not Sam, besides, we have a better angle than he has!” John rasped, and Bobby had to hold the elder Winchester down using almost all his strength. “For the love of God John, even with our angle, you can't aim well enough so as not to hurt Dean!” Bobby snapped, but the two men fell silent and could only take sneak peaks of what was going on, as shifter-Sam spoke, voice poisonous.

 

“Yes, I should kill him, he is going to die, because of you, just like your mother did!” “No, that's not true-” Sam said, and the two older hunters saw Sam's frame was shaking.“Why not, because Dean said so, all those months ago?” Shifter-Sam yelled, tightening his hold on Dean's arm, which by now, had been strained, to say the least.“Well, guess what, Dean won't be around to say that to you anymore!” The shifter yelled, and both Bobby as well as John went nub, as they saw the creature rising his knife, ready to stub Dean on the chest, to kill him off, for good...

 

“NO!” Sam howled, firing with his gun, managing to hit the right side of the shifter's hand, with which he was holding the knife, making him pull Dean's hand further behind the hunter's back. Despite the intense pain, Dean obliged his mind to keep working and used the back of his head to lay a strong blow on the shifter's already twisted from the pain face. The creature retreated many steps backwards, finally releasing Dean from the vice-like hold it had on him.

 

Dean growled in pain, falling to his knees on the cold concrete floor, but didn't let the pain overtake him just yet. With his good hand, he reached for his own gun, which the shifter had earlier thrown down and had kicked out of Dean's reach. Aiming at the creature which by now had taken the form of the kitchen employee it had earlier, Dean spoke, voice ice-cold, hard and sharp like steel. 

 

“This...” The green eyed hunter rasped, pointing and then firing at the shifter's right knee, making him fall down on the ground, “...is because you almost dislocated my shoulder.” He continued, rising to his feet, taking step after step forward, whilst the shifter used his forearms and his good leg to crawl away from Dean, who despite the pain in his arm and neck, seemed to be willing to tear the creature apart with his own hands. “This...” Dean said, firing yet another bullet, this time on the shifter's left knee, “...Is because you made cuts on my neck.” Dean snapped, kneeling before the creature, bringing them only inches apart.

 

“And this...” Dean uttered, placing the gun right on the shifter's chest, “This... Is for all the things you dared to say about my little brother.” The hunter growled, voice just above a whisper, a whispered only the shifter heard. A whisper Dean uttered, but wasn't sure was true anymore...

 

The green eyed man remained on the spot he had been kneeling on, for a few heartbeats, pinning the shape-shifter on the ground with one hand, while pointing at his heart with the other. His eyes however, were unfocused, as his mind was once again dwelling in the past. Everything had indeed begun on Bobby's yard... 'Sam... come inside with me-' 'And do what Dean, curl on bed together? And what will happen when dad comes in?' Sam had asked... Dad... 

 

 

'He won't come in-' 'How do you know that?' Sam had rasped, voice hard... But scared as well. God... Oh God, Sam had been ready to collapse and Dean already couldn't see it... 'Dean, dad can see us from the window, so stop fighting fire with gasoline...' Dad again... 'Dad was always watching Dean, that's why we haven't been talking...' “Dad... Watching, always watching...” Dean muttered in between his teeth, a muffled sound, not even the dying shape-shifter could hear.

 

'Your father made a deal with your brother...' The shifter's words echoed in Dean's head yet again and the green eyed man looked at his shaking hands as his mind put the pieces together... 'Dad and Bobby had been in the yard burning stuff when I left to take a shower... And Sam got out of the house... He made a deal with dad at that short amount of time... Which meant he intended to make one, it wasn't a last minute decision... But when could Sam have made such a decision?' Dean wondered, but in a blink of an eye, could find the answer... 

 

'Sam, what is it baby? Did you dream about dad or something?' Dean had questioned, when Sam had woken up looking like he had seen a ghost. 'It was no ghost he had seen... Was it?' Dean heard himself thinking and blinked yet again. 'Did dad came in here Sam? Answer me! Is this why you're shaking as though you're going to break?' Dean had asked, demanded actually, but Sam hadn't replied... 

 

The coughing of the shifter was then heard, and Dean blinked again, eyes flying wide open the very next second. Eyeing Dean, the shifter swallowed hard. Because the man before him, was looking down at him with green eyes which were burning, was threatening him with a voice which indicated that the force driving his actions, wasn't just the wish to kill a supernatural creature. 

 

 

No, it was the need, to kill something, or someone, the shifter doubted it made any difference, who or what had pose a threat to his brother... “This... Is for all the things you said about my little brother...” Dean muttered, repeating himself, and the shifter smiled, having nothing else to do. “I told you... Dean... I wasn't lying...” The shifter said, and Dean grabbed him by the colar of his shirt.

 

 

And as the sharp sound of the trigger been pulled yet again echoed, the doves flew away terrified, the wind blew and the few dry leaves which were idly lying all around the parking lot suddenly started swelling around, creating a game of shadows, which were constantly growing larger, or reducing, depending on how the leaves were moving and on the angle the evening sunlight was falling on them as they did. And somewhere in between the flapping of wings, the rustling of dry leaves and the gentle whistling of the wind, existed Dean's voice. “I believe you...”

 

Yes, he believed him, because the older hunter could finally see, had finally put most of the pieces of the puzzle together and for the first time in five months, he could feel his blood running warm in his veins, giving life to his body, which had been nothing more than an empty shell for all this time...

 

And the shifter lay dying, as the flame fade away from the creature's eyes, the flame in Dean's heart lit up again, giving life to the green eyed hunter, who could see the truth at last...

“I believe you...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. Next chapter is written, so I should be able to post it next Sunday. Hope that you enjoyed this, please let me know if you did!! :)  
> Love you all!!


	24. Honor the Deal:Final Act:The curtain falls...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final Act of the Deal is at long last coming to an end as the truth comes to the light... But could it already be too late??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to you all! Hope that you're doing great! As I promised, here is Chapter 24. Thank you for all your support, comments and follows and thank you for favoring as well!
> 
> Special thanks to Issraa, J1395 and all of you, who still read this story!!!
> 
> Special thanks to my dear beta-reader as well, GypsyPriestess, foor taking the time to look at the chapter and correct my mistakes! She is awesome!  
> So, enough talk, I think it's time to move on!  
> Off we go!!

THEN...  
And as the sharp sound of the trigger been pulled yet again echoed, the doves flew away terrified, the wind blew and the few dry leaves which were idly lying all around the parking lot suddenly started swirling around, creating a game of shadows, which were constantly growing larger, or reducing, depending on how the leaves were moving and on the angle the evening sunlight was falling on them as they did. And somewhere in between the flapping of wings, the rustling of dry leaves and the gentle whistling of the wind, existed Dean's voice. “I believe you...”

NOW...

Dean looked at the now dead shifter for yet another moment, before finally turning his face towards Sam, who also stood frozen by the spot, hand tightly holding his gun, as though it was glued to it. Getting to his feet, Dean slowly approached the young man, his green eyes fixed on Sam's slightly trembling frame. Sam seemed lost however, and only when the warmth of Dean's body blocked the sunlight from falling on Sam's chest did the young man stir.

 

“Well, we've seen enough, haven't we?” Bobby, who was still hiding behind the Impala along with John commented, glancing over to the elder Winchester. “Stay put Bobby.” John almost commanded, eyes fixed on the two boys who were unaware of their presence. “John what the hell are you saying? The kids barely escaped death and you want to-” But Bobby's angry voice was cut off, as Dean spoke, spoke in a tone he hadn't used in months. “Sam... I need you to give me the gun.” He said, voice low and gentle.

 

Sam didn't answer though, because his eyes were fixed on the cuts on Dean's throat and on the blood which was oozing out as his brother spoke. Blood... Dean could have died because of him, again. Blood, red and warm, blood on Dean's shirt... Blood, filling the tub, dying Sam's hands, dying Dean's lips, blood, Dean's lifeless body lying in the tub, lying before Sam's feet like a red carpet... Blood... All Sam could see, was blood, and it was Dean's...

 

But suddenly, Sam's eyes were forced to move upwards, due to Dean's palm, which was lifting Sam's chin. Thus, Sam was forced to tear his hazel eyes from Dean's neck. Bobby felt John shaking next to him, as he beheld Dean's movement. “I need you, to give me the gun.” Dean repeated softly, and only then did his words finally break through Sam's fogged mind. 

 

“The gun... What...” Dean's eyes softened even more as Sam seemed to not even be aware of the death grip he had on the gun. “Sam, I need you to let go of the gun.” The older man said, his injured hand ghosting over Sam's, just like it had done when Sam had clenched his fingers on Bobby's desk, nearly breaking both his hand, and the desk. Sam's face frowned, and Dean spoke again, knowing that his brother's mind was still stuck in those moments where Dean had been threatened. “The shifter, it's dead, so how about you give me the gun, huh?” He said softly.

 

Sam's hazel eyes blurred visibly then, and his breath hitched, the lump in his throat blocking the words he so desperately wanted to speak. Dean looked stunned for a second, but he then felt the barrel of the gun being placed in the inside of the palm of his injured hand and obliged his fingers to take a hold of the gun, which his brother had given him without tearing his gaze from Dean's face. 

 

The green eyed man let a quivering breath escape his lips as the palm of his good hand moved a few inches towards the left side of Sam's cheek, his fingertips lingering on Sam's jaw, between his neck and his jaw. “Sam, hey, hey hey, blink a couple of times, come on.” Dean said, raising his voice a little in volume, so as to bring his brother back to the present. Sam, after a few seconds, did as he was told and found himself unable to stop the few teardrops which had gathered in the corners of his eyes, from trickling down his cheeks. 

 

 

Eventually, the small drops of salty water reached Dean's thumb as well as the inside of his palm, making the older hunter open his mouth to speak. But all the words died in his throat, as his eyes saw Sam's face twitching with pain, fear and sadness. “We need to...” Sam started to talk, but his voice fainted. Swallowing hard and soundly, he cleared his throat, speaking again. 

 

 

“We need to move the body of this lying piece of shit.” He eventually said, pulling away from the other man, and for the first time in months, Dean could see the tremendous amount of effort Sam put into pulling himself away from him. Especially now, when Dean was sure that his brother was having a bad time thinking how Dean could have died. And yet, he kept the mask on. He kept playing his role...

 

 

Sam was now standing a few feet away from the Impala, with his back turned to the car, while Dean, who could see the car, had his eyes on Sam.“I'm not dead Sam.” Was all Dean said, maintaining his voice gentle and soft, but not low enough so as not to be heard by Bobby and John, who were still, hiding behind the Impala. 

 

 

“What?” Sam uttered, his hands shaking visibly, just like his voice did. “Oh, of course you're not dead, how could you be, you're right here.” Sam babbled, and then tried to move past Dean, and the older man guessed Sam was heading towards the dead shifter. Problem was, Dean wouldn't have that, not this time. So, he placed his good hand on Sam's wrist, preventing him from turning his back on him. “Sam...” Dean spoke again, his green eyes fixed on him.

 

But the green eyed man froze the very next second, as he caught a movement, or rather the shadow of it, out of the corner of his eye. Every fiber of his body tensed, but Dean knew he had to be careful, especially when his hand was almost numb and Sam was in no condition to fight again. Tearing his eyes from his brother for good this time, Dean pretended to look down at his injured hand and managed to cast a glimpse to where the shadows lay, behind his beloved Impala.

 

What he saw made his heart skip several beats however, because behind the car, lurked no supernatural threat, but John and Bobby, who seemed to not have seen Dean... 'Dad was always looking...' No, this couldn't be... Dean bit his bottom lip hard and slowly returned his green eyes on his brother, who still had his back on the car. This was Dean's only chance to check on what the shifter had said. Sam wasn't aware of their father's presence, and was wretched as well, so this was Dean's chance to make some things clear.

 

If he could make Sam drop the show just for a little while, it would mean that the shifter had indeed been telling the truth. Which would also mean that Bobby, which Dean had asked about what had happened to Sam, had been lying as well. What Dean had ignored however, was the fact that his father would also witness Sam's breakdown... 

 

Clearing his throat, Dean spoke, once again moving closer to Sam. “Sam listen to me-” “What is it Dean?” The younger man rasped, making an attempt to move away from his brother. He took a few steps to his left, but then seemed unable to make his legs to move any further. “I'm not dead, you saved me Sam.” Dean uttered as he moved as well, blocking his brother's way. “I think I get that, now, If your hand hurts, that's fine, I'll clean the mess up, you go get some rest...” He uttered and Dean saw his body was shaking again.

 

 

“I don't need to-” “Your shoulder was almost dislocated for God's sake, not to mention that the cuts on your neck are still bleeding, so for the love of God...” Sam uttered pressing his hand on his eyes while bowing his head, “Go get some rest.” Sam managed to say, before taking some unsteady steps backwards, and sinking to the ground, his back touching the front bumper of the Impala, still unaware of the two men who were on the other side of the car.

 

Dean's eyes flew open at the sight, but the man fought off his initial urge to sink into his knees as well and grab Sam by the shoulders so as to hug him. This needed to be handled differently, since they had an audience. This, would be the final act of a play which had begun all those months ago, and this time, the leading role belonged to Dean rather than Sam. Letting his green eyes fall close, the older hunter took in a deep breath and started talking. 

 

“I won't ask if you're alright, because it's crystal clear that you are not.” Dean said, voice as steady as he could manage. “Of course you won't ask if I'm alright, when have you bothered to do that the last five months?” Sam shot back, as he brought his knees up to his chest and let his chin rest on them, his hand still covering his eyes. “Sam we won't go there-” “Why not? For five Goddamned months you haven't let yourself close to me. And I get it, I do, when I asked you to break up it was hard for you, but it was hard for me as well.” Sam rasped, and Dean found himself gasping.

 

“I know it was hard for you as well Sam-” “Why do you know that all of a sudden Dean? Because some freaking shape-shifter said some bullshit, which sounded like the script of a movie?” Sam rasped, pushing Dean away from him. “No, not at all Sam... But I know you, and you get affected by a lot of things.” Dean said, while sitting on his heels so as to be able to get Sam's face in his hand. “And I know that what that freak said, affected you as well, but the fact that it took the upper hand and trapped me wasn't your fault.” Dean said, stretching out his good hand, which Sam pushed away.

 

 

“Now, after all this time, you want to reassure me that you're here?Now, you want to act like my big brother again? Why Dean? Why?” Sam said, voice breaking. “Because, I am your brother.” Was all the green eyed man could find to say. “A little late for that, don't you think?” Sam shot back, knowing that those were Dean's words he was using for yet another time. The young man also knew that he really needed Dean, and that his attitude was absurd, but he was on the verge of breaking, and with his brother so close, Sam felt more than ever, that everything he had gone through all those months were hanging by a thread.

 

“So, you want me to go away?” Dean muttered, voice low, as hope begun to fade from within his heart. Sam took a few seconds and paused, his furled body shaking even more. “Yes...” He eventually said, voice broken, quivering, but able to utter that one word. “As you wish Sam... As you wish.” Dean answered back, swallowing hard, as he got back on his feet. Turning around, Dean got ready to leave, face desperate and ashen. So, he took one, then a second, then a third and a fourth step, placing one foot before the other, like a soldier walking to his doom, towards a battle in which he knows he will die.

 

 

But then he heard something, a muffled sound, a choked sob in between two words, which were barely comprehensible. But Dean understood them nonetheless, for it was Sam who had uttered them. “Dean... Wait.” The green eyed man stopped right where he was standing, and ever so slowly, turned his face towards his brother. “Wait... Please... Don't... Just... Just...” But Sam's sobs were now getting in the way, even though they were low in volume, so the young man inhaled deeply and spoke again. 

 

 

“Just... Stay... Just for a little while, just for a few minutes, stay... As a stranger who shows kindness, even though he hasn't gotten any the last five months...” Sam uttered, voice broken and low, “Or, stay as my brother, who remains just because he feels obligated to, I don't mind, or even as my... lover who so rightfully feels betrayed, so he stays a while, but will then push me away, only to make me feel the immensity of loneliness and emptiness at their fullest.” Sam managed to say as he let his teary eyes fall on Dean, who had been left standing frozen on the spot, a few feet away from his brother.

 

“Pick whichever scenario you like, I deserve them all... But just stay. Please...” Sam whispered, and Dean was at a loss of words. God, what should he do now? A part of him was rejoicing, yet another was terrified. Sam had let his mask crack, thus proving to his brother that, not only did he need him at that moment, but another point as well, the most important to be accurate. The fact, that he was allowing all this to happen, now that their father wasn't looking. But there, lay the source of Dean's terror.

 

John was looking at them, just like he had been doing every minute of every passing day, for the last five months... Should Dean move close to his brother, like every fiber of his body was screaming at him to do, like every beat of his heart was commanding, that's why his heart was beating after all, then John would come forward and he would have every excuse for making whatever promise, or to be precise, threat, he had in mind, come true. For a second, the green eyed man tried to think what was the worst possible thing his father could do...

 

But the more he thought about it, the more terrified he became of it. His father could and would, like Sam had stated, back in Bobby's cabin, shove them in two cars and would make sure they wouldn't see each other again, for a very long time. He could even send him to Caleb, and Sam to Pastor Jim like the shifter had said... But all of a sudden, he came to the realization that all those things didn't matter. God, why was he afraid of those things? Sam had every right to be afraid, because if those were the threats under which he had made a deal with their dad five months ago, he had no power to prevent them from happening. 

 

 

But with Dean it wasn't the same, he was an adult, thus he could grab Sam, shove him in a car and take him away. It was that simple. 'You can't leave dad Dean...' Sam's voice echoed in his head, but Dean mocked it, because he could, he could leave and that's what he was going to do right now, grab Sam, his Sam, his brother, his Sammy, put him in a car, and drive on and on, not bothering to stop, because they didn't have to, because they were together. 

 

 

And Mary? Their beloved mother? Well, she would just have had to understand, and as Dean imagined her face before his eyes, he knew she would. Yes, that was it, that was what Dean was going to do, and maybe they could still hunt on their own, and Dean would get a job somewhere, wherever they would stop for a while. It would be nothing much, but they would get by, besides Sam would surely have the basics, just like always, and they would--...

 

Have the basics... A crappy motel bed at night in the best case scenario... Forget the bed, this wasn't a problem, Sam didn't mind those things. Yes, they would somehow manage that and... 'I know I don't have enough money to keep him fed dad, but I swear...' Dean had rasped, but now those words were coming back to haunt him and destroy his plans. Not enough money to keep him fed, to offer him a place he can call home, to give him the chance to get out of this life... 'I want to become a lawyer Dean, and they've accepted me to Stanford!'

 

 

Stanford, of course... How could he not see it? That was the ultimate threat his father could think of, Dean was sure of it. He had threatened Sam with not letting him go to Stanford, should he not break up, and had given his so called consent that he could go, should Sam honor their deal... 'I want nothing more than a normal life...' Sam had uttered, and Dean had vowed to help him get it at all costs. 

 

 

'I want nothing more, than to see you at Stanford, or at some other university.' Dean had answered back to his brother when he had found him on that freaking road, crying and wet to the bone. God... what was there to be done now? Dean let his eyes flutter closed and pushed his tears back. There was only one way out of this situation. He would have to ignore his brother's plea and turn his back on him. This way, the two older hunters could return to the motel unseen and more importantly, Dean could make Bobby tell him exactly what had happened all those months ago.

 

Yes, that was the right thing to do... He would have to walk away from Sam, so as not to imprison him in a life he hated, so as to let him fly away, away from all those dangerous situations, from all the military training, the crappy motels, the instability... Fly away from him as well... And it would have to be Dean who would walk away first. As the green eyed man blinked yet again, Sam's words echoed in his mind again.

 

'I can't Dean, I can't live like this, it's too much, just thinking that you could die to protect me. So, if you are not willing to leave, if you are not willing to stay away from me, I will do it for you. I will walk away, for you...' His brother had declared a long time ago. Dean swallowed hard and opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on his brother, who was still looking at him through a veil of tears. “Stay, you plead.” He muttered loud enough so that the two other men could hear.

 

 

Sam nodded, but didn't speak. “No Sam, that I can't do. Not now, not anymore...” Dean replied, feeling his chest ache as he spoke. God, how had Sam been doing this all along? “You pushed me away not a minute ago. You pushed me away five months ago. You are soon to leave and go out there in the big bad world, all alone. And there, I won't be near to you so as to come when called-” Here Dean paused, as unbearable pain was all he could feel as he beheld Sam's face. It was so sad and pained, but had an eerie calmness on it as well.

 

Dean's eyes flew open then, for he understood the reason why, his brother was so calm, despite the sharpness of Dean's words. He believed he deserved them... 'He thinks he even deserves a beat down...' the shape-shifter had said, and Dean wanted to yell, to scream, to hit his fists on the cold concrete until they were nothing but a mass of bloodied meat. This... This, wasn't right. But Dean kept talking, kept playing. 

 

 

“...So, you have better grow up and stop calling out to me whenever it suits you. You are going to be alone Sam. In fact, you already are alone. It was you who pushed me away in the first place. I'm just returning the favor.” Dean said, digging the nails of his good hand to his injured one like his life depended on it. Turning around, Dean let his tears finally roll down his cheeks, as he started to walk away once again. God, he couldn't even walk, his knees were trembling, threatening to give out on him at any second.

 

“I'm sorry... About us. I'm sorry for breaking up with you, I'm sorry for all the pain that I caused you... I'm so, so sorry...” Sam muttered as Dean was walking away and his words were carried by the blowing wind. Dean inhaled sharply, even more tears escaping his eyes. He knew that Sam was doing the last thing he could in order to somehow redeem himself without breaking the deal. He was apologizing yet again. 

 

 

No, now there was no doubt that Sam had been forced to do what he did. It was crystal clear in the way Sam was talking at that moment. The green eyed man slightly raised his head upwards then, his back always on Sam and the car.

 

 

'I know it, I know it Sam, I know... But don't apologize, for there is nothing for me to forgive here...' But like most of the times, the words we think are different from the ones we speak. And at that moment, that difference was not just big, but essential as well. “Sorry?” Dean rasped, not caring for the audible cracks in his voice. 'God, make this stop... Come down here and stop this! Do something! Kill me if you have to, yes, kill me so that I won't take another step, do something, anything!' Dean heard his inner voice screaming, threatening, but actually pleading, begging even...

 

But when had God answered any of his prayers to begin with? Not only didn't He answer Dean's desperate inner cry for mercy, but the very next second, a teenage girl appeared in Dean's line of sight. She was walking down the narrow street next to the parking lot and was listening to music while doing so. The song she was listening to and singing herself as well however, made Dean's heart sink in an ocean of anger and pure despair. And as the song carried on, Celine Dion's voice surrounded both Sam and Dean, the sweet melody of the song mixing with Dean's voice.

 

“I know I never loved this way before  
And no one else has loved me more  
With you I've laughed and cried  
I have lived and died,  
oh what I wouldn't do, just to be with you...

 

“No Sam... You are not sorry.” Dean continued, taking a few more steps away from Sam and towards the small door only the staff used, which led from the back side of the motel to the front. “You're not sorry at all.” He managed to utter, using the same words he had used a while ago, when his brother had apologized in the room.

 

“I know I must forget you and go on  
I can't hold back my tears too long  
Though life won't be the same  
I've got to take the blame  
And find the strenght I need to let you go...” 

 

“Dean... Just so you know...” Sam whispered and the green eyed man found himself halting, but not turning around to face his brother. “There will never be a moment I'll regret. For all the love you gave and all the love we made... I know it was true and I thank you for that.” Sam uttered, voice broken, mixing his words with the ones of the song. But Dean didn't answer, he just started walking again, steps small, unsteady. And as the wind blew again, music surrounded them once more, only this time not as loud as before.

 

“Just walk away  
Just say goodbye  
Don't turn around now you may see me cry  
I mustn't fall apart  
Or show my broken heart  
Or the love I feel for you...”

 

Dean bit his lip but did walk away, disappearing through the small door, leaving Sam alone, well, not really alone, in the parking lot, bound to his grief. And as the door behind the green eyed man was shut, the curtain of the play was falling as well, for it had at long last, come to an end... But Sam didn't know that, and all he could do, was mutter the lyrics of the song the girl was listening to, which were now fading away as she kept walking down the road...

 

“So walk away  
And close the door  
And let my life be as it was before  
And I'll never never know   
Just how I let you go  
But there's nothing left to say  
Just walk away...”

 

“Walk away...” Sam whispered, but then crushed his fist on the cold concrete floor, hissing in pain while making Bobby take in a sharp breath as he looked at the young man. “Just walk away... Why the hell... Why are you walking away?” The young Winchester muttered, growling deep in his throat like some kind of wounded animal. “Why the hell... Why can't you fucking see...” Sam rasped, as he took in a shaky breath, eyes burning with tears...

 

 

“Why the Hell, can't you fucking see it?” He then yelled, a cry which was not that loud in volume, but was ripped from the depths of Sam's soul, as his lungs seemed to be pushing every molecule of oxygen out of his system as he spoke those words, leaving him dizzy and numb and oh, so, broken. Little did Sam know, but Dean, who was lingering behind the closed door had actually heard his brother's call, and had thus gotten yet another proof of what had happened. Now, there was only one more thing he needed to do... “Just wait and see Sammy, just wait, just a little bit longer...” He muttered, voice quivering.

 

The very next second he was walking down the narrow hall, which was leading from the parking lot to the staff's rooms and he then climbed a few stairs, finding himself before another door, which he opened and was then met with the front parking lot, and Bobby's old, crippled car. “Just a little bit longer Sammy.” He repeated once again and headed towards the front entrance of the motel, fire in his green eyes. 

 

“John I'm done sitting here-” “He broke the deal.” John rasped, barely managing to keep his voice low. “No John, he didn't, for the love of God! Now let's get back inside before he sees us!” Bobby said, dragging the other man on his feet and towards the back door of the motel, away from the car and Sam, who hadn't moved an inch. 

 

 

“Bobby what the hell do you think-” “I think I am saving both of us from been seen as soon as your son turns around! And for God's sake John, didn't you see what happened with the shifter?” Bobby rasped, as soon as they had reached the door of the motel from which they had gotten out of to the parking lot earlier. “Yeah, I saw that Sam messed things up again-” “John, enough of this.” Bobby declared, making sure John had his eyes on him.

 

“You've tried to make it work, and keep them apart, and that's what any parent who would find himself in your shoes would do. But that's too much, right now, it is cruel not to let them have a moment. Dean almost got killed, again, and Sam still tried to honor your fucking Deal, even though he eventually broke and pleaded, he freaking pleaded with Dean to stay by his side.” “No Bobby, no this isn't how it goes, when you want to end something, you don't get little moments of weakness, you don't let yourself have anything, anything at all.” John shot back, voice hard and unforgiving. 

 

Bobby sighed in anguish as John turned his face away from him. “John they still are, and will always be, brothers. That's what Sam needed now, he needed his brother.” The other man declared, knowing that he wasn't lying. “And his brother walked away, just like he should have.” Came the answer at once, but Bobby wasn't sure of the reason Dean had left. 'Even he, got angry and decided to be unforgiving...' His subconscious said, but the man couldn't believe it. No, even hurt, Dean wouldn't speak like that to Sam. 

 

 

“He is going to leave John, he is going to go to Stanford. Don't you think that he has played the game long enough? Isn't it high time he puts an end to it?” “Oh yes he is going to leave, that's for sure. Now will he be going to Stanford, that's a different topic.” Bobby huffed in annoyance as John answered. “Can you really not see what hell of a life they've been going through these five months? I know it's hard, but even you, can't deny that they love one another.” Bobby said, trying to remain calm.

 

“Well, they shouldn't, not like the way they have been!” “John they are-” “They are brothers, why can't you see it, that they are not supposed to be more than this?” John said, pressing his hand on his face, taking in a sharp breath. But before any of the men could speak another word, they saw Sam getting up from the ground and getting back on his feet.

 

“John, please, go easy on the kid.” Bobby muttered as Sam started walking towards them, but due to his still teary eyes, he didn't see them until he was but a few feet away from them, and thus couldn't avoid them. “Sam, what happened son, why are you... Well, in that shape?” Bobby questioned, but Sam fixed his eyes on his father, ignoring the other man. Such tremendous amounts of sadness and anger did those hazel eyes held, that John found himself unable to utter a word to his son.

 

“You just got here?” The younger Winchester questioned, voice hoarse. “Yes, we just arrived, did you find the shape-shifter?” “Yes Bobby, it's lying dead on the back side of the motel.” Sam explained, but paused as Dean made his appearance in his line of sight, and within seconds, was standing next to Bobby and John. “Took you two long enough, you missed the action.” Dean said, voice rather steady. “What happened to your hand Dean?” Asked John, speaking for the first time in a while.

 

Dean tried his best not to start yelling at the older man, and swallowed hard to keep his self control. “Shape-shifter messed me up a little, do we have any pain killers in the medical kit in the car?” He asked, knowing that they had run out of all kinds of pills. “No, we're out, so I'll go get some-” “Sir, Sam should go get some painkillers, and you should take care of the body, I need Bobby to help me clean the cuts on my neck, can't do it with one hand.” Dean interjected, making sure to keep his eyes on John.

 

 

“Fine, I'll go take care of the body, can't have it lying there, but after Bobby is done with helping you, me and him, we need to talk.” John commanded, as he turned around, heading towards the back side of the parking lot yet again. “Sam, go buy all types of painkillers, fill the medical kit, it's empty.”Dean said, offering some money to his brother, who took them with shaking hands.

 

 

“Do you...” But Sam's voice was still too hoarse, thus he cleared his throat and tried again. “Do you need anything in particular from the pharmacy?” “No, just buy the usual.” The green eyed man replied and watched as Sam walked away, heading to the opposite direction from John. 

 

The remaining way until the two men reached the room Dean and Sam had rented was done in silence, which Dean broke, as soon as the door behind him had been shut. “Dean sit down, let me check you out-” “No, no Bobby you will-” “Dean... I need to talk to you. I need to tell you some things, things I should have told you from the moment I learned about them.” Bobby said, while pointing at Dean to sit on the chair. “Tell me things? Yeah, that sounds good. How about starting with the why you and my dad were hiding behind the Impala earlier?” Dean rasped, his voice sharper than the edge of a knife. 

 

 

“So you did see us...” Bobby replied, voice low, filled with bitterness. “Yes Bobby, I saw you! What the Hell do you think you were doing-” “Did Sam see us as well?” “No, no he didn't.” “Is that the reason why you refused to stay with him?” At the sound of this question, Dean's face frowned visibly. “I won't answer such questions. They don't concern you, not anymore.” Dean snapped, cursing silently at himself for his attitude. 

 

 

“So that's why... You know Dean, you and Sam... You are both such idjits...” Bobby said, lowering his eyes. “Bobby I-” “If John learns about what I'm going to tell you, he will probably never speak to me again. But if that will give you boys a way to get some things clear between you, before Sam takes off for Stanford, then it'll be worth it.” Bobby continued and the green eyed man gasped, as he could now understand that Bobby was about to tell him, what he wanted to ask him in the first place. Blinking, Dean sat on the chair and Bobby sat opposite of him, on one of the beds.

 

“What you're about to hear, is what your brother told me, five months ago. You'll just sit and listen Dean, you will not interrupt me do you understand?” “Yes, sir.” Was all Dean answered, and so, Bobby started talking. “Do you remember when you asked me, back in Sioux Falls, if Sam had talked to me?” “Yes Bobby I remember that.” “Well... I...” “You lied, didn't you?” “I thought it best to-” “Bobby, skip the prologue and get to the point.” Dean demanded and the older man did as asked. 

 

 

“The day me and your daddy returned to Sioux Falls earlier than you thought we would... He came upstairs and saw you and Sam lying in bed, together.” Bobby said, and heard Dean gasping. “Sam saw him entering the room, but you didn't, so in order to protect you, he managed to convince you to stay in the room, while he came downstairs and went in the yard and talked to him...” And Bobby let the story unfold, much like Sam had done when he had talked to him, that morning in the bathroom. 

 

By the time the old man was done with his narration, John was done burning the body of the shape-shifter, Sam was walking towards the front entrance of the motel, and Dean was... Dean was sitting still, like a statue, his good hand pressed against his face... So, the shifter had indeed, been telling the truth...

 

Meanwhile...

 

Sam, who was walking towards the room, holding a bag filled with painkillers, came face to face with his father, who was also heading back to the room. Father and son were standing face to face, but were nowhere close to the room Dean and Bobby where in. “Dad, I bought-” “Either get serious and start training harder, or stop calling yourself a hunter.” John rasped, voice cold and sharp. “If it wasn't for me, Dean would be dead now.” Sam shot back at once. 

 

 

“Where were you, dad? Where were you when the shape-shifter-” “Right behind the Impala.” Was all John said, and the younger man paled even more, the small bag with the pills slipping out of his elegant fingers. “I heard you Sam, you broke the Deal.” “I didn't, but even if I had, why didn't you help us-” “I couldn't, the shifter would have killed Dean.” “Bullshit, you were just testing him, he could have died!” Sam yelled, eyes burning with anger again.

 

 

“He didn't and I wasn't testing anyone... But back to the point Sam, you broke the-” “I didn't break it-” “I heard you Sam! Now, here's what's going to happen! Either you like it, or not, you will gather your stuff and you will walk out of here. By nightfall you will be gone.” John commanded, and Sam was left dumbstruck. “What...?” “You will go to Pastor Jim, Sam. Maybe there you could learn to shoot better!” John rasped, but Sam was just staring at him.

 

 

The very next second, Sam knelt on the floor, picked up the boxes with the painkillers and got up on his feet again. Taking in a sharp breath, he spoke, voice ice-cold. “I didn't break the deal dad. But as it would seem, you have already made up your mind. So let me tell you something. I am not going to Pastor Jim, I am leaving here, tonight!” He rasped and moved passed his father, heading on to the room the other two men were in. 

 

“Wait up Sam!” John yelled as he followed the young man down the hall. “You think I broke the fucking deal, but I didn't.” “Yes you did, that's why you're going to Jim's tonight!” The elder Winchester answered back, stopping two doors away from the room Dean had rented. His voice however was loud enough, and the walls and doors of the motel paper thin... “No, I didn't break it, but you can't understand that two people can't just erase what they had in a single day! Well, at least, most people can't!” “Don't you dare say that to me Sam!” John rasped, and inside the room, Dean got up, reaching for his gun. 

 

“Why? If you indeed loved and still love mom, then you should know that what I'm saying is true! I didn't break your deal! I-” “You ought to have forgotten whatever you thought you were feeling!” John rasped and Sam found himself stepping backwards. “This will never happen. What I felt, what I still feel... It-” “It is the reason why you're going to Jim tonight!” “If I am going to go away, I'll do it because I want to, not because you order me to! I am not your soldier. And I will never be. So no, I am not going to Jim's, I am going to go to Stanford! I am leaving here, tonight!” Sam replied, his eyes fixed on John... 

 

 

And inside the room, Dean found himself leaning behind the closed door, gun still in his hand. He had finally learned the truth... But as it would seem, it was too late... But then again, it is never too late, is it? Dean may have had just escaped death, but he had escaped nonetheless... So no, so long someone is alive, it is never too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here ends chapter 24!   
> Song: Just walk away  
> Artist: Celine Dion
> 
> Album: The Colour of my love
> 
> Year of release: 1993  
> I OWN NOTHING!  
> I don't know when the next chapter is coming up, because I am in the middle of my exam period, so It'll take ten days the least. Sorry... But I'll try to update as soon as I can!  
> Hope that you enjoyed!  
> Please tell me what you think!  
> So, until next time,  
> I love you all! Usagi! :)


	25. The choices we make...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The games Fate plays on us are never ending, aren't they? The choices we are called to make, the crossroads we will find ourselves on, the odds we are faced with... And we always have to make a choice, we always have to walk down some direction of the road that goes ever on, for life can not wait too long for us to decide. It moves on, fast, fast like the wind...
> 
> Sam makes his choice, a choice which hurts Dean, but it's what they all knew would happen...
> 
>  
> 
> Can Dean chase the wind, his dream and above all else can he chase Sam? Can he fix things between them, even now? Can he make the right choice?
> 
> Can John see his sons for what they really are? Can he see them as his sons, or are they only soldiers? Can he make the right choice this time?
> 
> Whatever choice our heroes make, they have to understand that there is no turning back now.  
> And all they have to decide, is what to do with the time that is given to them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, sorry for taking so long!!! Blame my exam period!!!!!! But I am back nonetheless!!! So, here is chapter 25!! Hope that you'll enjoy it!!
> 
> There is no beta reader this time, because my computer needed to be fixed, so I'm posting this from another computer.... :( Sorry.... :( Please put up with my mistakes if you can...
> 
> The line "All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you..." Is taken from The Lord of the Rings 1: The fellowship of the Ring.
> 
> It's not mine!  
> So, off we go!!

THEN...

 

“Why? If you indeed loved and still love mom, then you should know that what I'm saying is true! I didn't break your deal! I-” “You ought to have forgotten whatever you thought you were feeling!” John rasped and Sam found himself stepping backwards. “This will never happen. What I felt, what I still feel... It-” “It is the reason why you're going to Jim tonight!” “If I am going to go away, I'll do it because I want to, not because you order me to! I am not your soldier. And I will never be. So no, I am not going to Jim's, I am going to go to Stanford! I am leaving here, tonight!” Sam replied, his eyes fixed on John... 

 

 

And inside the room, Dean found himself leaning behind the closed door, gun still in his hand. He had finally learned the truth... But as it would seem, it was too late... But then again, it is never too late, is it? Dean may have had just escaped death, but he had escaped nonetheless... So no, so long someone is alive, it is never too late. 

 

NOW  
“And so, me and your father, we left the house that night, leaving you two alone. I didn't know what it was that which Sam was obliged to do, that I learned the next day.” Bobby said, voice weary and sad. “When we came back, I looked for your brother and found him-” Here, Bobby's voice trailed off, but as soon as he had stopped talking, Dean, who was sitting opposite of him, raised his eyes, holding the other man's gaze for a moment. “You found him where?” The green eyed man asked, as he wrapped a bandage around his injured hand. 

 

 

“I found him in the bathroom. Dean he... He had somehow managed to sleep while sitting on the floor, his hands as a pillow and he was leaning on the freaking tub.” Bobby muttered, watching as Dean froze and his breath hitched. “I woke him up and asked him what had happened. He eventually told me everything, the same way I have just told you.” Bobby said, and then for a long time, silence fell in the room.

 

 

“You found him... Sleeping in the bathroom?” Dean questioned after a while, eyes fixed on his now bandaged hand. “Yeah, but he didn't tell me why. Then we got downstairs and I came to find you.” “You came to find me, only to lie to me when I asked you if my brother had spoken to you.” The green eyed man rasped, rage building up in his voice. “Dean, son, I'm sorry... But your father had made a decision and Sam had already been through so much, Dean I couldn't stop your father from doing what he thought best-” But Dean wouldn't let him speak.

 

“My father Bobby, told Sam that he would send me to Caleb and if he somehow ended up getting involved with the police, which would be inevitable, since it's Caleb we're talking about, he would tell them that Sam and I had...” But Dean couldn't even complete the phrase he was saying. “And I, who thought that Sam made the deal so as to go to Stanford...” Dean muttered through gritted teeth.

 

“Dean, your father would never do that, he would never speak to the police, he never gets involved with them, you know it, but he needed to make Sam agree to the plan, he needed him to-” “Don't you dare, don't you even dare, take my father's side!” The green eyed man rasped, getting up from the chair, pushing it backwards forcibly. 

 

 

“Dean he saw something that-” “Something which was harming no-one, why did he had to-” “No Dean, he saw a rather disturbing image, you are brothers Dean, and you have to admit that what you two had, was something no parent should ever have to deal with. Whatever he did, he did it for you and for Sam.” Bobby said, but Dean had had more than enough.

 

“What no parent should deal with? And what about the children? What about them Bobby? Are the children supposed to deal with guns and knives and monsters? No, they fucking ain't, but who cares about them, huh?” “Dean, no, don't say that, you know that I-” “You have been lying to me for months on end, and I had to learn the truth from a freaking shape-shifter and then put the pieces of the story together myself!” Dean almost screamed, as he grabbed the other man by the collar of his shirt with his good hand. 

 

“Why the face Bobby, I may not be as smart as Sam is, but if there is one thing I can do better than anything else, is read Sam.” Dean hissed, eyes burning. “And today, after all those months, I pushed aside my own ego, and finally looked at him. Really looked at him. And what I saw made me want to vomit. So I'll ask you again Bobby, do you love me like a son as you say?” Dean snapped, his fist on the collar of Bobby's shirt tightening. 

 

 

“Yes Dean, both you and your brother-” “Bullshit, if you did love us-” “Enough Dean! You said once, that choices and actions define a person. Your brother made a choice, and I had no right to interfere, just like when you had made a choice, and had talked to Sam about your feelings.” Bobby said, freeing himself from Dean's hold. “Now, stop blaming me, and make your own choice.” “What do you mean make my own choice?” Dean rasped, but Bobby ended up opening and then closing his mouth again, without having uttered a word, as John's voice echoed from somewhere nearby. 

 

 

“You ought to have forgotten whatever you thought you were feeling!” John rasped and both Dean as well as Bobby looked at one another, but then moved their eyes towards the door. John was deferentially standing two, maybe three doors away from the one of their room. And something in the angry, razor-sharp tone of his voice, told Dean, that Sam was the one his father had an argue with.

 

“You made a deal Sam!” John said Sam found himself stepping backwards. “I never said that I would forget what I felt, in fact, this will never happen. What I felt, what I still feel... It-” “It is the reason why you're going to Jim tonight!” “If I am going to go away, I'll do it because I want to, not because you order me to! I am not your soldier. And I will never be one. So no, I am not going to Jim's, I am going to go to Stanford! I am leaving here tonight!” Sam replied, his eyes fixed on John... 

 

 

And inside the room, Dean found himself leaning behind the closed door, gun still in his hand. He had finally learned the truth... But as it would seem, it was too late... But then again, it is never too late, is it? Dean may have had just escaped death, but he had escaped nonetheless... So no, so long someone is alive, it is never too late. 

 

 

“Move away!” Bobby mouthed to the green eyed hunter, who seemed unable to move. Blinking, Dean did move away from the door and sat back on the chair, just as Sam burst the door open, walking into the small room. Not a second later, John followed, shutting the door behind him with such force, that the window in the room momentarily crepitated. “What the Hell John, you wanna break the freaking window?” Bobby questioned, but the other man chose to ignore him.

 

“I wasn't asking you to go to Jim's Sam, I was ordering you!” The older Winchester rasped, his voice loud and sharp. “Time you become a proper hunter, not a poor excuse of one.” He continued, but Sam was paying no attention to him, as he was grabbing whatever pieces of clothing he could find, shoving them inside his duffle. “I don't want to be a hunter, so I'll just won't, I'm going away from here.” Sam replied, voice low, but hard as steel. His words reached Dean's ears and the green eyed hunter inhaled loudly then, but his father's words covered whatever sound he made.

 

“Don't make laugh, you think that you're just going to walk away and find a normal life waiting for you when you get to California?” “I'll make a life of my own.” Sam replied as he grabbed a couple of books he had placed on the shelf, which was next to the window. “You know nothing boy-” “Dad, enough, please...” Dean pleaded, getting up from his chair. “Stay out of it Dean.” John rasped, his eyes never leaving Sam. “I know enough about how life works so as to leave here.” The younger man said as he tossed the knife and the gun out of his duffle. 

 

 

“I am a hunter and so are you, you've been trained into it, it's your life, hunting is a way of life, and you can't just walk away from it, just to go to Stanford!” “Dad, enough! Don't say things you're going to regret later!” Dean said, this time speaking out loud, while placing himself right in front his father. “I said, stay out of it-” “Dad, they've accepted him to freaking Stanford, so if he wants to leave us and go there, let him fucking do it and get done with it!” Dean rasped, his voice hard and bitter. “Shut the hell up.” John hissed, his eyes turning on Dean, who could only look at his father.

 

“Sam, you're going to Jim's, end of story, he will come here-” But John stopped talking, and inhaled sharply, just like Bobby and Dean did, when they saw that Sam had stopped moving and was wrapping his right wrist with what seemed to be a piece of some white shirt. Dean's eyes opened wide then, recognizing that the piece of torn shirt Sam was using as a wristband, was the one Dean had used to blindfold him, back at Bobby's house. What made his heart stop however, was what his brother said right after he had wrapped his wrist with Dean's ripped off shirt. 

 

“If I ever learn, and believe me, I will learn, that you've talked to Dean like you just have... If I ever learn, that you've endangered him in any way, if I ever learn, that all you do is order my brother around like he's your soldier and not your son...” Sam said, voice barely above a whisper, yet it was enough to send a shiver down Bobby's spine. 

 

 

“If I learn something like that dad, I swear on Mom's memory, that I will drop everything and I'll come to find you, wherever you are. It won't matter where you'll be, believe me, I'll walk to reach you if I have to. And then I'll talk, I'll talk about many things I'm not saying right now.” The young man said, zipping up his duffle as he spoke. “And then, who knows what will happen.” Sam continued, eyeing his father.

 

Grabbing a thin book from under his pillow, Sam turned around and passed the duffle over his head, letting it settle on his left shoulder. “I'm leaving because hunting may be a way of life, but I don't want it to be my life. It doesn't mean that I don't want to find what kill mom, but I won't waste my life on it.” Sam said, walking towards the door. “But I'm also leaving because I don't want to further complicate things.” He continued lowering his voice even more, taking a step to where Dean had moved, next to the door.

 

 

“I hope that you'll someday understand, that you'll someday see that I...” But here, Sam's voice trailed off, and he turned his gaze on the floor, while placing the book he was holding, in Dean's hand. The young man could feel John's eyes on his back, but he didn't give a damn about his father at that moment. Dean was standing frozen on the spot, his face just a few inches away from Sam's, his green eyes burning with unshed tears. 

 

 

“...Understand that I... I never wanted things to go the way they did. That I am so, so sorry... For everything.” Sam eventually muttered, apologizing for the third time. Dean however, turned his face away from him. Swallowing hard, Sam somehow managed to step away from his brother's body, and he turned his head towards the door, grabbing the door handle. “If you dare to walk out that door, you should know not to ever come back.” John hissed and Sam's hand froze on the handle. “John for the love of God-” But Sam's low, sad laugh, which wasn't really a laugh, made the older man fall silent. “Dean...” Sam muttered as he opened the door.

 

“Be careful, please...” Sam said, and then walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him, leaving the three men stunned and frozen, unable to utter a word. John was the first one to move, heading to the bed to get off his shoes. “I'm going to take a shower and then we'll leave here, go back to Sioux Falls for starters. “Dean, take a couple of painkillers and if you need sleep, we'll stay at Bobby's for a day or two.” John ordered, as he got in the small bathroom, closing the door.

 

 

But Dean couldn't oblige to his father's calls, he couldn't even move. His eyes were tear filled, fixed on the book Sam had given him. It was no other than 'The knights of the round Table', Sam's favorite book, the one Dean knew by heart, for he had read it countless times to his brother. The book was old, the first one Dean had managed to buy for Sam, and thus the kid had loved it ever since, and never went anywhere without it. 

 

 

But as it would seem, he had indeed decided to leave them behind, leave the life he had up until now behind. And a book like had no place in his new life. Just like Dean himself. “Dean! Dean!” The green eyed man turned his face towards whoever it was that was calling his name, finding out that it was Bobby, who he had forgotten was in the room at all. But before the younger hunter could speak, Bobby grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him out of the room and in the hall. 

 

“Is this your choice Dean? Are you going to just let him go?” “What? Am I suppose to run behind him like a freaking dog or something? He left! He-” The punch which followed took Dean by surprise, making him hiss in pain, and take a few steps backwards. “You're such an idiot. You heard your father, he thought Sam broke the deal, and that's your fault.” Bobby rasped, and Dean found himself gasping. “He left because he had to, Dean. He made his choice nonetheless. Now it's your turn.” Bobby said, but Dean just shrugged. 

 

“What's the point Bobby? There's no point in making a choice...” Dean muttered and covered his eyes with his good hand, while holding the book Sam had given him with the other one. “It's too late, you're late in telling me the truth and I'm also late in understanding what was before my eyes for all those months.” Dean said through clenched teeth, voice broken. “It's never too late son. You still have time Dean, Sam hasn't gone too far yet. So you still have time and it's no use wasting it in thinking what could, or what should have happened. You have to decide what to do with it.” Bobby said, and Dean huffed.

 

 

“Dean, you have to decide what to do with the time that is given to you.” “Thanks Gandalf, I'll keep that in mind-” “Dean, you're a hunter and for all I know, you'll continue down that path. I know that, and I'm not asking you to leave John and follow Sam.” Bobby rasped, shaking Dean by the shoulders. “But as you saw, as you know, hunting is a dangerous job. You could have died one year ago, you could have also died today.” “Yeah, what's your point again?” Dean snapped, pushing the older man away.

 

“My point Dean, is that Sam left, to go chase his dream, but he also left so that your father wouldn't send him to Jim. He left because he didn't want John to start talking and tell you that he saw you and Sam on bed together.” Bobby said, and the green eyed hunter felt his breath hitching. 

 

 

He left Dean, because he couldn't bare the fact that he was the one who was causing you so much pain.” Here, Bobby's voice fainted and Dean's eyes went wide open. “He left, thinking that you are so hurt by his decision to break up with you, that you wouldn't even go sit by him when he pleaded you to.” “I didn't mean to push him away-” “That's what he thinks Dean. So here is the question.” Bobby said, fixing his eyes on Dean.

 

 

“Are you going to let him go away, thinking that you almost hate him?” “I could never hate him-” But Dean stopped talking, as Sam's broken whispers echoed inside his head. 'Dean, I did everything for you... Don't hate me...' “You could die while you're on a hunt Dean.” Bobby said and the green eyed man saw that for Bobby, it was hard to even think about that fact. But it was there in the back of his mind nevertheless. 

 

 

“Are you going to let him go, thinking that all he did all those months were all for nothing? Can you take the risk of not even seeing him again and let this...” Here, Bobby's eyes moved to the book Dean was still holding in his grasp. “Let this, be the only goodbye you two will share?” Bobby muttered and Dean felt tears in the corners of his eyes. 

 

When all Dean did was to stay still however, the only indication that he was alive was the rising and falling of his chest, Bobby sighed bitterly, and turned around, walking towards the door of the room. He then stopped at the threshold, hand on the door handle, eyes fixed on the floor. “For all I know Dean, if the tables were turned, you would have done the same thing if it meant Sam wouldn't get hurt.” Bobby muttered, making Dean inhale sharply, at the sound of those words.

 

The very next second, the older hunter pushed the door opened and entered the room, closing the door behind him. But the green eyed man couldn't bring himself to do the same, for he felt as though his body had been paralyzed and wouldn't obey to his wishes. Sure, Bobby had made some points, but this couldn't change the fact that Sam had walked out on them, had walked out on Dean. He had left him, without as much as an explanation, he had left him... And it hurt. God, how it hurt... More than his badly bruised arm, more than the cuts on his neck. 

 

Dean blinked and let his eyes fall on the book Sam had left him, which he was still holding in his good hand. He brought it before his eyes and opened it at a random page, gasping when he read a sentence which was written with Sam's childish handwriting, next to the original text. 

 

'Dee, the best knight, my big brother, my knight!' 

 

Dean felt his heart melting as he read that one sentence over and over, countless times, while flashes of events which had taken place that last year passed before his eyes... 

 

 

Sam, pale and stunned, looking at Dean as though he was but a mirage, when the older man had said he wanted them to be together, that he wanted them to be more than brothers.  
Sam, with eyes filled with anticipation and joy, with a face redder than a bloomed rose, looking up at Dean as the green eyed hunter started removing pieces of clothing for the first time. Sam, awestruck, as he beheld Dean killing two vampires while protecting a young woman from the bloodsuckers as well.

 

 

Sam, saying how he admired Dean, saying that what his brother had just done was awesome, saying that he was feeling guilty because Dean had to protect him all the time, saying that he would repay him one day, saying that he wanted to go to Stanford... Sam, saying that he loved, that he would always love Dean...

 

Sam...  
Sam...  
Sam...

 

'Are you going to let him go, thinking that all those things he did all those months were all for nothing? Can you take the risk of not even seeing him again?' As Bobby's words echoed inside Dean's head, the green eyed hunter closed the book he was holding, and let his eyes fall close for one more time. This was his moment, his play, his decision, his choice. And for better or worse, he had made it and wasn't going to change it. Reopening his eyes, Dean inhaled deeply and walked towards the door of the room, opening it with one swift move. 

 

Both Bobby, as well as John, who had exited the bathroom and was now wearing clean clothes looked at him. Dean looked at Bobby and then at his father, and spoke, his voice steady, although Dean expected it to be anything but such. “What are we going to do sir? Are we going to go to Bobby's or in Alaska, for that ghost hunt?” He asked and saw Bobby's face darkening. The man however, remained silent. 

 

 

“We'll be going back to Sioux Falls, there is a hunter who needs help there. We will stay a few days and there you can rest, so get ready Dean.” John ordered, and the green eyed man had to remind himself, to stay put where he was standing. “So, today is Wednesday, we will stay in Sioux Falls until when, Saturday?” Dean asked and John huffed in annoyance. “I don't know Dean, maybe yes, but I can't be sure, now go get-” “Good, I'll meet you there on Saturday then.” Dean said and watched as his father pierced him with his gaze. 

 

 

“Come again?” “You heard me dad. I will come and find you at Sioux Falls, that I promise. But I won't leave here like some kind of thief, without saying goodbye to my brother first.” Dean declared, picking up his duffle from where it had been thrown on the floor. 

 

 

“Dean if you dare-” “Do you love me, dad?” John froze at the sound of those words, but before he could do as much as take in a breath, Dean spoke again, voice low. “Or, no, let me rephrase my question. Do you hate me? Are you ashamed of me, now that you know what I have done?” Dean continued and looked his father straight in the eyes. 

 

 

“What do you mean 'now that I know what you have done' Dean?” “Quit playing around dad, Sam is no longer here, so I'm guessing there is no reason for us to play hide and seek anymore. “You know what I and Sam had. And although he has taken it all on him, and it was not he who started it...” Dean said and saw his father's eyes narrowing, “...You do know the truth nonetheless. We have been more than brothers, for more than a year, and call it wrong, twisted, sadistic, or whatever else you like, it was what it was.” Dean said and heard Bobby swallowing hard.

 

“Now, I know you have seen us together five months ago, and no, neither Sam, nor Bobby have told me anything, the shape-shifter did, and it wasn't lying.” “Dean stop-” “So, I'm asking you, dad. If you're disgusted by what you've learned, then I'll walk out of that door and I'll never bother you again, you have my word. And I won't be mad, if you want things to go that way.” The green eyed man uttered. 

 

 

“I won't lie, should you throw me out, it'll cost me too much, for I want to hunt, I want us to be a family again, and I want us to hunt together, I want us to find that thing that killed mom.” The green eyed man said, his voice filled with fear, but with truth as well. 

 

 

“But what I want even more than that, is to go and find my brother, before he takes off for good. I have to set things right between us. Now, will that be done at the cost of leaving you, I do not know. But it will be done nonetheless. So... I'm asking you, Sir... Should I return to Sioux Falls after I leave here, or not?” Dean said, voice quivering.

 

John remained silent, eyes on his firstborn, eyes looking at him as though they had never seen him before. But hadn't they? Oh, they had, back then in Bobby's yard, when his son had threatened to take Sam and leave... And one more time, in Bobby's house, when Dean had stepped in, growling deep in his throat, that Sam should stay in the house and not join John on that danger witch hunt. 

 

 

And yet another time, in that house the day it was raining, when Dean had demanded an explanation from his father, about the reason why Sam had seemingly all of a sudden, taken off, looking so scared. And of course that one time when he shielded Sam with his own body... 'Part of what happened between us is your fault too, dad... Can you lose him dad? Dean, who loves you more than he loves himself? Dean, who would die for you?' John heard Sam's voice echoing inside his head and knew he had to make a decision, make his own choice.

 

John eyed his son and couldn't stop himself from feeling proud of him. Dean was risking too much, that he knew, but he was standing his ground. His body was tense and the older hunter could see that his son was putting on a facade, so as to be able to confront him like that. Beneath that facade, Dean was scared, so scared, and yet he was stepping forwards, he was speaking up... Dean loved his family and would die for his father in less than a blink of an eye. 'But for Sam he would do more than that... For Sam, he can do anything.' John thought to himself.

 

'It was never you dad, Dean had always been there, Dean kept me safe, Dean taught me how to hunt, how to do research...' Dean... John thought and his breath hitched. His son, his Dean, who carried Sammy out of a burning house... His Dean... “Be back on Saturday, by nightfall. I'll be waiting at Bobby's house. If you don't show up in time however, don't bother to come looking for me.” John said after a while during which he had remained as silent as a grave. Dean's eyes flew open in surprise, before the younger man could stop himself. 

 

For a split second it seemed to John as though his son's eyes were on fire, for they were shining so brightly, like two exploding stars in the night sky, like two drops of rain which were hit by the sunlight. They were filled with awe, love and joy and for the first time in many years, John got to see that look on his son's face, that look of complicity and fulfillment. He had seen it before, in Bobby's house, but that look wasn't meant for him to see back then. And so, the elder Winchester got to see those green eyes looking at him like Mary used to.

 

 

But the next second Dean blinked and pulled himself together, making sure to put on the mask of the hunter, of the soldier who was ready to follow a command, for that was what he had to be now. He had let himself become the son who rejoices, as his father allows him something, but Dean knew he had to step back in the role of the soldier now. So, that was exactly what he did, he gathered a few clothes and his gun, as well as his knife, shoved them in his duffle and then got out of the room to the parking lot, so as to get his stuff inside the Impala. 

 

When he returned to the room, to get Sam's book and his wallet however, his father was nowhere to be seen. “He went to talk to the motel owner about the shifter.” Bobby said, before Dean could utter a word. “What you did Dean, it wasn't wrong son.” “I... I will be back in time, you know that right?” “Yes Dean, and so does your dad. And as for what was the point of the deal he and Sam made...” Bobby muttered, voice trailing off, as he stretched his hand towards the green eyed man. “No Bobby, I can't take more money from you-” “They ain't mine, you idjit.” The other man interjected.

 

 

Green eyes shot open at the sound of those words, and Dean found himself looking down at the money as though he had never seen such a thing before. “That's what the Deal helped with, Dean. It gave time to your father to think things through. That's why he let you go find Sam, because he trusts you.” “He wanted to kick Sam out-” “So that you two wouldn't end up together again. But he never wanted to lose any of you. That's why he didn't want Sam taking off on his own for Stanford. He couldn't bare the thought of him being all alone out there.” Bobby explained.

 

 

“But Sam is who he is Dean, and your father knows this, like he knows who you are as well. As for the money... Sam left without as much as a penny in his pockets. Do you think your father would ever let him go out there in the world alone and without money?” Bobby questioned and the corners of his lips turned into a smile as he beheld Dean's reaction.

 

“But we... He saw us...” “He did see you and I'm sure he'll never be okay with what you two had. But he loves you Dean, he loves both of you.” Thee older man said and for the first time in a long time, Dean believed that his father did love him. “Go, Dean, go son.” Bobby said voice low. Dean eyed the older man with eyes filled with love. “Thanks Bobby... Thanks for everything.” “Oh, for the love of God Dean, stop acting as though you are about to go to war and get out there already!” Bobby replied all of a sudden, making the green eyed man look at him and then smile widely. “Be back on Saturday you old rascal!” Dean shot back at him and opened the door of the room.

 

 

“Take care Dean.” Bobby added, knowing that he had never felt prouder of any other human being in his entire life.“You too Bobby, you too.” Dean uttered in between his teeth, and for a mere second, Bobby thought Dean had called him 'dad.' He may as well have had... “Tell Sam I'm sending my regards.” Bobby rasped, but all Dean did, was to wave the back of his hand as he walked out the door.

 

And so it was, that Dean was walking out of a door to find Sam for yet another time, much like at the beginning of our story, when Dean had walked out of a rented apartment while it was raining. Back then, as you may remember, the words 'Take care Dean' had been uttered by John and Dean had answered 'You too dad, you too.' And now, he had answered the very same thing, for Bobby may as well be his father, or at least, the closest thing Dean had to a father...

 

 

The games Fate plays on us are never ending, aren't they? The choices we are called to make, the crossroads we will find ourselves on, the odds we are faced with... And we always have to make a choice, we always have to walk down some direction of the road that goes ever on, for life can not wait too long for us to decide. It moves on, fast, fast like the wind...

 

 

And one moment, you think that the person you love is there, so close to you that you can extend your hand and hold him in your grasp, if only you decide to do so. But the very next moment goes by, but you haven't decided yet, you haven't made a choice yet. Thus, comes the moment after the one you lost, and you finally extend your hand, waiting for another one to grab it, waiting for a pair of eyes to look down at you, waiting for a smile to brighten your world... But the only thing your fingers touch is the wind, for the person is gone, has already made his choice....

 

So, the question is simple. Are you ready to chase your dream? To chase down the person you've let walk away from you? Can you run as fast as the wind does, as fast as life does? And if you can, and if you do find the person you've let walk away from you, can you make each and every second spend with them feel as though the clock has stopped ticking? For only then, will you be able to catch up for all the time you've lost. Yes, you may have lost one moment, maybe more... But every moment is unique and can never return...

 

Never returning were the moments Dean had spent away from Sam as well, never returning were the moments he was spending, looking all around the city to find him. But he had made his choice and wasn't going to change it anytime soon. And so, the day started giving its place to the night, and the shadows were growing larger as the sun was moving to the west. But Dean kept chasing down the wasted time, kept chasing down what he had let slip from within his grasp. 

 

Was it Fate or Luck who helped him, the hunter couldn't know, but somewhere around ten o'clock in the night he had finally found where Sam was... Clenching his fingers into a fist, Dean took in a deep breath and knocked at the door with the number 10 on it. “Look lady, I told you, I'll work to pay you back for the room, so you don't have to...” But Sam's protests died in his throat as he opened the door to find himself face to face with the one person, he knew he wouldn't see anytime soon. 

 

 

The younger hunter blinked a couple of times and stood frozen on the spot by the threshold, for what could have been hours, but were mere seconds. Never returning moments they all were, in Dean's mind, so it was him, who spoke first. “Hey there Sam.” He uttered, smiling weakly. 

 

 

Dean could have sworn that Sam's mouth fell open at the sound of his name. “The lady won't bother you, I paid for the room and for some extra hot water. Brought food as well.” Dean said, bringing his good hand, in which he held a bag with what were probably hamburgers, in Sam's line of sight. 

 

 

But Sam remained silent, for his mind was in such a haste that he couldn't bring himself to utter a complete phrase. If Dean was there, with his duffle passed over his shoulder, then he had left John, but Dean had no reason to do that, unless... At the mere thought of Dean having been kicked out because Sam had broken the deal, Sam's palms started sweating all of a sudden.

 

 

His breath quickened dangerously, as his eyes blurred from the tears... Because Dean was standing at the door... God, Dean was standing at the freaking door... “Well, I have to admit it's flattering, me being the one to rob you of your ability to speak. After all, this is your best card, little brother.” Dean muttered, half chuckling, knowing what was going on, inside his brother's head. But when Sam didn't do as much as flinch, Dean knew he had to move fast. 

 

Placing the bag with the food on the ground next to him, Dean softened his facial expression, moving closer to his brother. The younger man however, couldn't think anything anymore, for his mind had blacked out. He couldn't do anything, couldn't see anything... Couldn't feel anything.

 

 

He couldn't see Dean placing the bag with the food on the ground, couldn't feel the hot tears running down his own cheeks, couldn't feel the sweat in between his fingers... Couldn't feel Dean's hand wiping the drops of salty water away... What he did feel however, was Dean's breath on his face, as the green eyed man approached him, his lips only inches away from his own.

 

 

“It's alright Sammy, it's okay.” He uttered and Sam shivered violently, as something inside him broke. “What... How... Why are you... Are you alright, are you...” But Sam's fragile voice fainted as a sob emerged from deep within his throat. “You can stop now Sammy, for you've done well.” Dean said a little louder this time. Sam's eyes widened and his breath got caught in his throat, but his heart was beating so fast he thought it could break. He had to speak up, had to ask why Dean was there, had to push him away... Had to... But he couldn't do any of those things, for Dean was finally there, with him... Oh, God...

 

“You've done well, Sammy...” Dean said again, and Sam had never felt more powerless, confused, and yet happy, in his entire life... And as the clock stroke ten, Dean got Sam's frowned face in between his hands and held it tight, while his green eyes were never leaving teary hazel ones. And so, there they stood, only inches away from one another. And Dean was holding Sam close, holding him because he had finally found him. 

 

 

He could feel the hot tears on the tips of his fingers, he could feel Sam shaking... But he was finally holding him close, after all this time. Sam opened his mouth, but couldn't speak, no, Dean wouldn't let him. In less than a blink of an eye, Dean crashed Sam on his chest and locked his arms around his shaking shoulders, knowing that he wasn't going to let yet another second be wasted... 

 

 

And as the wind blew, the green eyed man could feel it surrounding him. But it couldn't come between him and Sam, not this time, not anymore... For he was holding him impossibly close, his grasps taking a hold of Sam's shirt. And as the next stroke of the clock was heard, Dean knew he had finally, found what he was looking for. He knew he had made the right choice, he had taken the right decision regarding the time that had been given to him... 

 

Because the coming second, found the brothers together... That, was the right thing to do. It was what he wanted to do. Dean knew that for sure...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here ends chapter 25... Wow, that was a long chapter!! And yes, the boys are finally together again!! We will get to see some more of them, making up again! But keep in mind that Sam will go to Stanford! But not just yet! :)  
> Hope that you all enjoyed!!   
> Please tell me what you think!!  
> Until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!


	26. "Forgive me Brother, that's all I ask, give me strength to live at last..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to make his brother understand that he could never get mad at him for making such a choice. But Sam has been hurting for too long and can't seem to be able to understand how Dean still wants to be with him... And as the night falls, Sam breaks down, unable to forgive himself...  
> Dean has to fight back the demons and make his brother understand he has forgiven him. That way, maybe, just maybe, Sam could forgive himself one day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!! Yes, I'm so late, and I'm sorry but life is a pain and won't leave me to do what I want!!  
> So, here is chapter 26, which was really hard for me to write. It felt as though I couldn't put the pieces in the correct order, thus I am not satisfied with the final result, but I hope that it won't be that bad!!
> 
> No beta reader this time either, sorry, but she has broken her glasses and thus can't help me out right now!!
> 
> I have to thank all those awesome people who still read this and especially 'Kate' for the great, heartwarming comment and for her feedback!! Thank you, so very much!!
> 
> So, I've said enough, off we go!!

THEN...

 

Was it Fate or Luck who helped him, the hunter couldn't know, but somewhere around ten o'clock in the night he had finally found where Sam was... Clenching his fingers into a fist, Dean took in a deep breath and knocked at the door with the number 10 on it. Sam's eyes widened and his breath got caught in his throat, but his heart was beating so fast he thought it could break. He had to speak up, had to ask why Dean was there, had to push him away... Had to... But he couldn't do any of those things, for Dean was finally there, with him... Oh, God...

 

“You can stop now Sammy, for you've done well.” Dean said and in less than a blink of an eye, he crashed Sam on his chest and locked his arms around his shaking shoulders, knowing that he wasn't going to let yet another second be wasted... And as the wind blew, the green eyed man could feel it surrounding him. But it couldn't come between him and Sam, not this time, not anymore... For he was holding him impossibly close, his grasps taking a hold of Sam's shirt. And as the next stroke of the clock was heard, Dean knew he had made the right choice, he had taken the right decision regarding the time that had been given to him... 

 

NOW...

 

Dean inhaled deeply, time and time again, taking in as much air as his lungs could hold, because that air was filled with Sam's sweet scent, which could make Dean dizzy and at the same time, it could set his insides on fire. One breath, followed by the next, and then the next, and then one more, because there wasn't enough air, no, Dean needed more of it. Because for more than four months, Dean was nothing but an empty shell of what he used to be. He was a man who was constantly drowning in an endless sea of self loathing, guilt, pain, anger and despair.

 

But now, after all this time, he was able to breathe again, he was able to feel again, feel his blood running, hot like fire in his veins, he could feel the wind on his face, he could feel... He could feel Sam shaking in his embrace, he could feel the younger man struggling as he was trying to break free from Dean's vice-like hold, he could feel hot, uneven breaths on his neck. Dean's eyes flew open then, as realization hit him, and the green eyed hunter backed off a little, so as to be able to look Sam in the eyes. 

 

“Sam, hey, listen to me-” “But Dean found himself unable to continue, for the look on his brother's face was one of pure horror, guilt and utter sadness. The younger man withdrew from Dean's embrace and got back in the room, with Dean right behind him. Once the door was shut and the food was placed on the small kitchen table, along with Dean's duffle, the middle Winchester cleared his throat and spoke, voice low, gentle. 

 

 

“Sam, listen to me-” “Why are you here Dean? I walked out on you, so I think that I made it quite clear, I want a different kind of life.” Sam, who had moved to the other side of the room and was standing as far from Dean as possible, said, voice fragile. “Sam, I'm here because-” “Why? Did something happen with dad? Why do you have your duffle with you? Where the Hell did you find the money to pay the room? And how did you find I was here in the first place?” Sam questioned, hands shaking. “Wow, wow, wow, slow down, stop thinking and talking so fast, God, how come your brain hasn't burn up yet?” Dean questioned, as he moved towards Sam, who reflexively, stepped back.

 

“Sam-” “No, answer me and stop fooling around! Why are you here, why did you hug me and how did you-” “I looked all around the town for you.” Dean replied, cutting Sam off before the younger man could utter another word. “What-” “I looked all around town, and after hours of driving with one good hand, I finally found where you have run off to this time.” Dean continued, raising his injured hand as he spoke, making Sam bite his lip at the sight. “Why?” Sam managed to whisper, even though his mind could work out the answer. “Because I needed to see you. Because like I said, you can stop playing now, little brother.” Dean answered back, taking step after step towards his younger sibling. 

 

 

When Sam's back hit the wall, Dean halted as well, knowing better than to box his brother between his own body and the wall. Stretching his hand, Dean cupped Sam's right cheek in his palm and spoke again. “I know everything Sam.” Dean declared, and Sam's eyes flew open before narrowing again. “What the hell are you mumbling about, you make no sense.” “I know everything Sam, all those things you didn't want me to know.” “What things-” “I know about the Deal you and dad made Sam.” Dean said and watched as a million emotions were painted on his brother's face at the same time.

 

 

“The shifter told me-” “Shifters lie-” “No Sam, this one wasn't lying, for it knew the truth would hurt more than any possible lie.” Dean explained, tightening his hold on Sam's face, keeping it in place. “And then, after the shifter had spoken to me, I started putting the pieces together myself. But if that's not enough for you, there is also Bobby's confession of what had happened that day, between you and dad.” Dean said and Sam opened his mouth, but closed it again, for there were no words he could find to answer back to his brother.

 

 

Seeing that Sam was at a loss of words once again, Dean moved even closer, letting his injured hand rest on the left side of Sam's face, while he ran his fingers through messed up brown locks. Sam swallowed hard and soundly, as he felt his eyes stinging with unshed tears. Silence then fell on the small room, and Sam was desperately trying to find a way out of this situation, but there seemed to be no such opportunity. 

 

 

“It's fine Sam, I... I know you had to do this, it's alright Sammy. That's why I'm here, because like Bobby said, I couldn't let you go like that, I had to make a choice. So... I made a choice Sammy. I told dad the truth and... It wasn't easy, but it was necessary.” Dean said, his gaze fixed on Sam's. Sighing wearily, Sam closed his eyes and hit his head on the thin wall. “Sam, stop-” But the younger man didn't stop, he hit his head on the wall again, this time harder than before, all while pushing Dean backwards forcibly.

 

 

Dean stepped back and Sam lashed out and away from him. For a split second he stayed completely still, standing in the middle of the room, with his back turned on Dean, who was standing frozen on the spot. The very next second however, Sam inhaled deeply and moved towards the small table. In a swift move, Sam threw everything on the floor, Dean's duffle, an old astray, as well as a vase with flowers in it, which went crushing down to the floor, shattering into pieces. Deep growls emerged from the younger man's throat, and Dean took a few steps towards him, stretching his hands out defensively, as if he wanted to calm down a wounded animal.“Sam, Jesus, stop it-” “He had given me a promise, he was supposed to look out for you, not mess everything up!” Sam yelled, voice sharp, but desperate.

 

 

“Sam, listen to me, Bobby did what he thought best-” “He destroyed everything, he opened his mouth and now dad has thrown you out of the freaking house!” Sam yelled even louder, all while grabbing the chair which was next to the small table, tossing it on the nearest wall. Dean's green eyes opened wide at the sound of those words, as he understood that he had said but half of the story, which had led to Sam misunderstanding the purpose of Dean's sudden appearance. 

 

 

 

“Sammy, no, you're wrong-” Dean tried to speak but Sam cut him off. “No... I'm not wrong, it was all for nothing, everything, there was no point in making a deal in the first place, I... I just thought...” But Sam's voice fainted as he looked down at his trembling hands, and tried to keep them steady. But what was the point? Dean had learned everything, and Sam had for one more time failed to keep him safe, had failed miserably and now all he could do, was to break down in front of him... “I thought I could protect you, I thought that I could, for once, for just this once, do something for you-” “Sam, hey, no, no Sam, come on, Sammy-” “I failed you and now dad kicked you out-” Sam started to say, only to stop as bile rose up in his throat. 

 

 

The young man swallowed soundly, suppressing the sudden urge to vomit and then lashed out again, this time heading towards the mirror which was hanging on the wall. “It was all for nothing...” Sam muttered in between gritted teeth, as he clenched his fingers into a fist. “Sam, no, listen to me-” “I failed you, like I always do...” Dean heard his brother saying and felt his stomach flipping at the sound of Sam's broken voice. 

 

He tried to speak again, but all words died in his throat, as he beheld Sam clenching his fingers into a fist. His eyes moved from Sam's hand to the nearest wall, and caught a glimpse of the mirror which was on it. Years of experience made Dean's body move with the speed of a firing bullet, for the older man knew what his brother was about to do. An agonizing gasp escaped his lips and Dean wasn't sure to whom it belonged to, for the sound echoed peculiar in his ears, but he moved nevertheless.

 

 

Sliding his good hand on Sam's chest, Dean tugged the younger hunter close to him, all while using his right leg to make his brother trip and thus, lose his balance. It was a trick John had taught them both long ago, and the green eyed man had never been more grateful about his training than he was at that moment. Dean held Sam and slowly lowered them both on the floor, making sure to be as careful as possible. In his embrace, Sam was shaking and gasping for air, all while trying to break free from Dean's hold.

 

 

Even though Dean couldn't bare to watch his brother's breakdown, he made sure that Sam had his eyes on him. Pressing his body on Sam's trembling one, Dean spoke, choosing his words carefully. “Sam, listen to me now, I need you, to listen to me.” Dean said, letting his voice drop an octave, if not more. For all he knew, that tone made Sam unable to turn away from him. “Dad didn't kick me out, the money I payed the room with, came from him, not Bobby. I told dad the truth Sam and I will be returning to Sioux Falls on Saturday night. But until then, I needed to sort things out with you.” Dean declared, moving his face into Sam's personal space. 

 

 

“Sammy, the Deal wasn't useless, okay? And I'm not mad at you, for making such a choice Sam.” The older man reassured, and could only watch the young man, who was trying, but was failing to process what his brother had just told him. “You didn't fail me Sammy, you didn't let me down...” Dean muttered in a low voice, as the fingers of his right hand moved the hair from Sam's frowned forehead. 

 

 

Seeing that Sam's eyes were blurred and unfocused, Dean exhaled wearily, but kept his voice soft as he spoke. “Things between me and dad are fine Sam, do you understand that?” Swallowing hard, the younger man nodded his head and pulled himself on his feet, trying not to fall back down as he did so. Dean followed suit and when they were both back on their feet, Sam spoke, voice bitter. “So... what you're saying, is that dad knows you're here, alone, with me.” Dean let his good hand rest in between Sam's tensed shoulder blades and then lifted his eyes to catch a glimpse of him on the window of the small room. 

 

 

Dean saw his brother lowering his head in what could easily be anger, but was nothing of that sort. “Sam, the deal helped. Dad got the time he needed and the fact that I'm here right now, proves this point-” “Dad will never be okay with what we had. He will never forgive me.” Sam cut off, trying to move away from his brother's touch. “Sam, no, he told me that I-” “But that's not the point.” Sam continued and Dean heard himself saying words he thought he never would. “You're right, dad isn't the point right now. He's not the reason why, you want to break everything in here.” The green eyed man stated, moving even closer to his brother.

 

 

“The point is, that Bobby should have never-” “The point is, that for yet another time, you're blaming yourself, you think that you've failed me, that everything that has happened, is your fault.” Dean said, knowing that Sam was blaming himself. “The point Dean, is that I made this so called 'deal' and told all those lies to you, for your own good. And yet, all I managed to do, was to cause you pain.” Sam continued, voice breaking as he spoke. “The point is, that for yet another time, you're too blinded by your love for me, that you refuse to see that all this mess, is my fault. You refuse to put the blame on me, just like you were refusing to accept the fact that my stupidity almost got you killed on that hunt with the werewolves.” Sam muttered.

 

 

“Sam, no, we've talked about this and neither what happened then, nor what happened this time was your fault-” “No? Why not Dean?” “Did you know that dad would be coming back when he did?” Dean questioned, not waiting for Sam to reply. “No, you didn't know it. You didn't know, and you saw him standing right in front of you, by the doorstep. So, you did what you thought best. You did the only thing that was there to be done.” Dean stated, but Sam wouldn't have that.

 

 

“Oh, please Dean, aren't you tired of making excuses for every bullshit that I do? Aren't you tired of getting hurt because of me?” Sam asked, voice high, and shaky. “Sam, no, things are not like that-” Oh, come on Dean, for just this once, speak up for yourself. Blame me, call me names, punch me, and then leave.” Sam said, pressing his palm on his face. “What?” Was all Dean managed to reply, his voice sounding thin and quivering. Sam swallowed hard and turned around, facing his brother, who seemed lost. “You want me to leave?” Dean muttered as he felt his chest heaving. 

 

 

“Dean, I... I never wanted things to go the way they did Dean.” “This isn't what 'I've asked you Sam!” Dean hissed in anger, and Sam flinched at the sharp tone. “Wait, please, just hear me out, Dean, please.” Sam whispered and the older man exhaled loudly, nodding his head. “Dean, I'm... I'm sorry that you had to go through all that, and I never wanted you to learn what had happened.” “But now I know what has happened Sam and I came here for you, and instead of-” “Instead of doing what Dean? Huh?” Sam snapped, raising his voice. “You've done more than you had to, you have spoken up to dad, you've taken off to find me and sort things out between us. Well, things are sorted out, at least from my part.” “Where is this monologue going Sam?” Dean questioned, anger building up in his voice. 

 

Pressing his hand on his face even more, Sam sighed and let even more tears ran down his face. He knew there was no point in holding them back anymore. “Dean... You may have learned the truth, but this doesn't change the fact that I'm leaving. So, whatever it is that you hoped we would do, other than have a nice, chick-flick like talk, well, it's not going to happen.” Sam uttered voice weak, broken. Dean stayed silent for a few moments, but then lifted his eyes to meat wet, hazel ones. “Do you want me to go away?” Dean whispered again, taking a step towards his brother, invading his personal space. Sam's breath hitched then, as his mind recalled that same phrase, which his brother had uttered, only a few hours ago.

 

“Dean...” “Answer me!” Dean yelled then, pushing Sam on the wall, while using his good hand to pin both of Sam's hands above his head. Their faces were so close to one another, that Sam could breathe in, Dean's own breath. Sam tried but failed to move away, his body too drained to fight back. “Why?” Dean questioned, an ocean of sadness in his green eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?” Dean muttered, his voice cracking. Sam's eyes widened even more then, and he breathed out a shaky breath. There was no room for more lies at that moment, that he knew for sure. So, screw it all, he was going to speak his mind. 

 

 

Several minutes passed in silence however, with the sound of Sam's uneven breaths being the only indication that he was still alive. Swallowing, the young man looked at his feet, whilst Dean took yet another step closer, and now their chests were touching. “Answer me Sam, I have the right to know. Do you want me to leave you?” Dean said, and the tone made his brother blink owlishly. That was it. He had to speak, to make his brother leave, because what could come out of this meeting? Gathering up his courage, Sam opened his mouth and...“No... God, no, no, no, no... Dean, no... You don't understand, I don't want to hurt you...” The young hunter mumbled over and over again, his breath quickening. His own words surprised Sam, who could only stare at his brother, eyes wide open, pleading. 

 

 

“You have to go away Dean, please, don't do this to yourself...” Sam immediately rasped, as he tried to get his mind under control. “Why, Sam? Why do I have to leave? How can you even ask this of me now, after all this time, after all those lies? We finally got a chance to-” “Dean, we have nothing, all we have, is three days and then-” “Three days are more than enough. Let us spend those days together, do things together, enjoy this, while we can.” Dean muttered, pressing his body on Sam's. “Dean-” “Three days is all I'm asking of you.” Dean whispered, lips only inches from Sam's trembling ones. 

 

 

“No, Dean... Please don't ask this of me... Don't ask me to hurt you like that...” “Hurt me? Sam, are you listening to yourself? Why spending three days with you would end up with me getting hurt?” Dean questioned, eyes narrowing. Sam sighed bitterly then and licked his lips so as to be able to speak. “Because, were we to come together again now, after all those months...” Sam replied, turning his face away, burying it in the crook of Dean's neck. “Then you wouldn't be able to let me go. You would get close to me again, and you would be unable of moving on, you would be unable of letting me go... I can't put you through something like that. I just, can't.” Sam confessed, voice low, cracked. 

 

 

Dean's body went rigid then, as his eyes flew open at the sound of Sam's words. “Sam, I-” “But it's not just about you Dean... In fact, I'm the coward one. Because I wouldn't be able to close the door and leave you here.” The younger man uttered, breathing in his brother's scent. Dean smiled sadly then, running the fingers of his good hand through Sam's brown locks, tugging them upwards, obliging him to meet his eyes. “You're right. I won't be able to let you go, not now, not ever Sam.” Dean said, honesty filling his voice, as the anger was melting away. “But you will leave me regardless of that.” At the sound of those words, Sam's heart reached his throat and tears ran down his eyes anew. “No! Dean, no, no, I don't-” Sam's voice echoed loud in the small room, but the older man was fast on stepping in.

 

 

“Shh, no, hush, hush Sammy, shh...” Dean almost pleaded, letting go of his brother's wrists to cup both sides of his wet face in his hands, while laying a kiss on Sam's frowned forehead. “You'll leave me Sam, because going to Stanford is your dream. You've defined everyone and everything to fight your way to this college. And that's what I want you to do. I want you to go out there and save the world, protect the weak, defend the innocent, condemn the guilty...” “No, Dean I-” “You will follow your heart Sam, I know you will, and I am so damn proud of you, little brother...” Dean continued, eyes shining with adoration as he spoke. 

 

“Dean, please-” “You're going to be a lawyer Sam, and you're going to get me out of prison one day.” Dean said, chuckling slightly as he spoke. “But this day is yet to come, little brother. But for all I know, we have lost five months. For better or for worse, those days have come to pass and they won't be coming back.” “Dean-” “Listen to me Sam, please...” Dean pleaded as he brushed Sam's tears away with his thumbs. “So, we've lost all this time Sam, and it can't come back, not ever. But we still have three days. So, the only thing I want, is for you to give me these three days... And then, I'll get you to the bus station.” Dean whispered, lips ghosting over Sam's dry ones. 

 

 

The mere possibility of a kiss was enough to send shivers down Sam's spine. “Why can't you see it Dean? This is why I want you to leave...” Sam breathed, hooking his hands on Dean's shirt. “I can't do this to you, not after everything... I can't be with you for three days and then take off, leave you here like that!” He continued, desperate to pass his point across. “I can understand that Sam, but-” “But what Dean? What? You shouldn't even be able to be near me after all the lies I've served you! You should want to punch me until I fall flat on the freaking floor, not caress me!” Sam snapped, making Dean huff in annoyance. 

 

 

“Would you stop asking me to beat the crap out of you?” Dean rasped, losing his patience. “You have to understand Sam, that even though I don't like what has happened, I have nothing to blame you for, little brother.” Dean continued, laying a hand on Sam's lower back. “You made a hard choice Sammy-” “I made a wrong choice Dean.” Sam corrected his brother, but Dean ignored him. “What else was there to be done but this, Sammy? Given the circumstances you did what you thought best.” Dean said, as he tried to reason with his brother once more, while moving his hands on Sam's shaking shoulders.

 

 

“No... Don't say this Dean, say anything else, but this. Get angry, get furious, yell at me, come on, do something!” Sam said, voice raising yet again, as what little self-control he had managed to gather was slipping away from him. “Sam, I would have done the same if the situation was reversed. I would have done anything to save you from the pain-” But Sam wouldn't let his brother continue. Raising his voice, the younger man cut Dean off and pushed him backwards, getting away from him yet again.

 

 

“Save you from the pain, yeah, that was my ultimate goal, but as you can probably tell...” Sam snapped, underlining the word 'probably', as he spoke, “All I did, was to break you, so many times, using harmful words, and cheap, pathetic lies.” Sam breathed, in a weak voice. “Sammy-” “And for that Dean, I'll never forgive myself.” The younger man continued, turning around to face his brother, his eyes big, sad and tear filled. “I would have done the same thing Sam, you know it.” Dean declared, repeating his words, feeling his heart breaking at the sight of his brother's trembling figure standing in front of him. “What? You would have done what, Dean? Would you lie to me like I lied to you? Would you betray me like that?” Sam said, trying to yell, but failing, as a sob emerged from his lips. 

 

 

“Sammy-” “No Dean, just no! You wouldn't have done the same, because you're a good man, a great son and a brother I don't deserve... So you have to do something, you can't just erase all those horrible lies I've told you just because you learned I was forced to do so!” Sam yelled then, clenching his fingers into fists for yet another time. “Sam, I won't lie, what you did messed me up, and it hurt like hell, but now I know why you did the things you did, why you said the lies you said.” Dean replied, growling as he spoke. But as his green eyes scanned Sam, they could see how his brother had reached his limits. All those months, all the lies and the heartbreak had taken their toll, and for all Dean knew, Sam was experiencing Hell right then, for he was thinking everything he had done, had been for nothing.

 

 

“Fine, you won't get mad about what I've done to you willingly? Then I'll make you angry right the fuck now! That way, you'll leave me alone, you'll get away from me, away from all the pain I cause you!” Sam said and Dean could tell his brother had lost whatever self-control he had. Swallowing, Dean braced himself for what he knew was coming and vowed to stay strong and not break. Sam had done everything to protect him and he had gone through so much for his sake. So, Dean wasn't going to give up on his brother, not now, not after spending all those months away from him. He would stay there, and he would take whatever Sam had to offer. He would make things between them good again, before letting Sam take the road to California.

 

 

“I'll make you angry right the fuck now!” Sam yelled again, all while clenching his fingers into a fist. in less than a blink of an eye, the younger man punched Dean's chest hard, hissing at the burn his knuckles were feeling. Dean however, stayed still and locked his jaw in place, so as to stop the moan of discomfort from escaping his lips, as Sam punched him again, this time with his other hand. Dean, refused to utter a word, or take a single step backwards, as Sam kept punching him, again and again and again, all while sobbing and muttering almost incoherent words in between. But Dean could understand them all, could hear every broken plea, every single apology, each and every cry for punishment, which was nothing more but a desperate cry for forgiveness and redemption.

 

Dean let Sam hit his chest time and time again, until his hands were too shaky to even be able to obey to Sam's wishes. He let him yell that Dean should get pissed and do something to him until his voice was hoarse, he let him apologize and plead for forgiveness more times than he could count, until Sam's sobs got in the way and his words got trapped in his throat, along with his uneven breaths. Only then did the older man let his hands hover over the sides of Sam's pained face, all while his lips moved. “I've nothing to forgive Sammy, nothing baby...” Dean whispered, his own voice cracking as he spoke. “And I won't leave you again...”

 

 

“You've been braver than I will ever be Sam, you fought for me, you stood up for me, and for that, I could never be mad at you. And for the record, I should be the one apologizing for not seeing what was going on, I should apologize for leaving you there, in that parking lot, when you asked me to stay with you...” The green eyed man continued, taking one more step closer to Sam, who was shaking violently. “I'm right here, right here, with you Sammy... I love you, baby boy.” The hunter whispered, leaning his forehead on Sam's sweaty one as he spoke. At the sound of those words, Sam shuddered even harder, and Dean thought he was convulsing. 

 

“Sam? Sammy, just take it easy-” But a muttered whimper cut the older man off and made his eyes fly open. Sam found the chance then and moved a few steps backwards, and away from his brother yet again. “You mean it?” Dean heard Sam asking, insecurity pouring out of him. “Yeah, I mean it Sammy, I mean it baby...” Dean replied and then silence fell in the room. Sam's mind was blank, but as those words echoed in his ears, his heart skipped a beat. He swallowed hard and tried to think of what to do next, but his mind had shut down a while ago, and there was only one thing his body wished for. And it was exactly what it did. “I'm falling...” Sam managed to utter, right as his legs went numb and as a sob emerged from deep within his throat, mixing with the words he had just spoken. 

 

 

Sam felt his knees giving out on him, and hot tears running down his cheeks anew, right as the last syllable escaped his lips. But before Sam could blink, happened what he had hoped for. The younger man found himself manhandled and pulled to a lean, muscular chest, by strong hands, which prevented him from hitting the floor. He felt the all too familiar beat under his right ear and shivered as hot breaths met the top of his head, while callused, yet tender hands towered over his shoulders. “No Sammy, no baby boy, you're not falling. Because I'll always be the one to shield you, the one to catch you before you fall.” Dean muttered and Sam's teary eyes flew open, for this wasn't the first time he had heard those words coming out of Dean's lips. 

 

 

No, it wasn't the first time. Dean had declared that he would always be there for Sam, whether he liked it or not, because that was who Dean was, who he ever wanted to be. Those same words had echoed in Sam's head as he beheld his father standing at the door of Bobby's guestroom, those very words had given Sam the strength to make up his mind and make a Deal with his father. Because Dean could never learn that they had been caught lying in bed together. No, Sam would protect his brother, for just this one time... But as he felt Dean's hands holding him upright, Sam's eyes blurred even more. He had failed, and it didn't matter that Dean thought otherwise... 

 

 

“I'm sorry... Dean, D'n, I'm sorry...” Sam muttered in between ragged, pained breaths, as his hands were shaking. “Sam, it's alright little brother, it's alright-” “I... I don't want you to go Dean... I want you to stay, I need you to stay...” Sam whispered as Dean moved them both towards the small bed and lay them down on the scratchy mattress. “Dean, I-” “Shh... No, no Sammy, it's alright, let it all go. I'm right here Sammy. I've got you now, I've got you...” Dean said, letting Sam curl his body into a ball before leaning as close to him as possible. Dean gathered the shaking man in his embrace and allowed him to bury his face in the crook of his neck, feeling the hot inhales and exhales as Sam was trying to fight the sobs back.

 

 

“I've got you Sammy...” Dean muttered again, as he felt Sam's erratic heartbeat under his left palm. “I'm so, so sorry...” Sam replied yet again and then Dean's eyes blurred, but his mind cleared up, finally understanding what Sam needed to hear so as to let himself go. “I forgive you. I forgive you Sam...” Dean whispered as he buried his nose in Sam's brown hair. Strange thing, the power the words hold, isn't it? Dean had nothing to forgive, that he was sure of. And he had made that clear, but Sam hadn't been convinced. Thus, Dean let the words escape his lips, knowing that they were capable of making Sam feel better. Because maybe, just maybe, if Dean uttered those words, if he said them aloud, then Sam would be able to someday, forgive himself as well.

 

 

“I forgive you Sammy...” Dean whispered in Sam's hair yet again. And that was all it took, those words were the ones which pushed the younger man over the edge. His body tensed and his hazel eyes flew open before closing tightly as his hands grabbed fistfuls of Dean's shirt. He took in a sharp breath and let his tears fall, let the sobs overtake him for yet another time. Dean bit his lip hard at the feeling of hot tears on his neck and at the feeling of a stiff body been wracked by the violent sobs, while he held it in his embrace. But he kept all words for himself, because he knew that Sam wouldn't be able to hear them.

 

 

God, Sam had never been more ashamed of himself ever before, he was breaking down for yet another time and this time, Dean was there with him... He was witnessing his breakdown and a part of Sam wanted to disappear. Another part of him however, wanted, needed Dean there, needed to hear the muffled whisperers of encouragement Dean was mumbling. And when Sam tried to speak up, Dean stepped in, urging Sam to let it all out, to cry, because in times like that one, tears could offer inner peace and tranquility. 

 

 

With those whispers, every bit of shame poured out of Sam, becoming one with his tears, leaving him vulnerable, shaking, but lighter as well. This was Dean, and Dean would never be ashamed of him, because no matter what would happen, Dean would always... “I love you...” The green eyed hunter uttered and Sam lost himself in between short, shallow breaths and got dizzy, the only thing keeping him grounded were Dean's hands on the back of his shirt. He didn't know where he was, or if it was day or night, he had forgotten everything and everyone, save Dean, who was there, a solid body which was shielding his own trembling one. 

 

 

“Sorry, I'm sorry, sorry,so sorry...” Countless times Sam begged for forgiveness, countless times Dean granted it to him. Countless times Sam muffled his sobs in the crook of Dean's neck, and even more times did Dean's hands tightened around Sam's shaking shoulders, caressing them as if they were made of glass. Countless times, because the hours seemed to crawl, because the sun seemed unwilling to rise and shine up above Men, who so desperately needed the light in their hearts... And so, the long hours of the night went on and on, with Dean holding Sam as close to him as possible, all while whispering all kinds of soft, chick-flick nonsense he could come up with.

 

 

Because Sam needed him right then, needed him more than he had ever before. He was crying hard, his entire frame shaking as if it could break and that was something Dean would never make fun of. No, he would never do that, because Sam had been dead inside for all this time. He had stood up and fought for what he held dear. But the battle was vicious and had scarred him deeply. So, Dean let his brother cry, because tears were not a sign of weakness. No, they were the sign of life. They meant that a baby was healthy and well, and in this case, they meant that Sam was letting all go and was starting to feel again, after all this time. 

 

He was starting to feel, he was letting himself feel that he wasn't alone anymore. He was trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Dean was there, with him, and that he knew everything... God, he was trying, trying so hard to gather himself up, but he couldn't, for he was all over the place, broken in tiny bits and pieces, which were now picked up by Dean's tender hands, one, by one, and then one more, until he was starting to feel whole again. When the first rays of sunlight lit up the sky, tearing the night sky apart, putting it on fire, that was when Sam's sobs eased a little, and he moved a few inches away, so as to meet Dean's emerald gaze.

 

 

“Sammy?” Dean uttered in a low voice, not sure that his brother was with him for real. At the sound of Dean's words, tears welled in Sam's hazel eyes, making Dean's face frown with worry. Sam however, managed to clear his throat so as to speak, his voice hoarse and raw. “You're still here...” Sam muttered and Dean's lips formed a weak smile. “Can't get rid of me that easy now, can you?” Sam swallowed hard then, feeling his throat aching. “Let me get you some water-” But Sam held Dean in place, stopping him from moving away from the bed, away from him. 

 

 

“I... Thank you, Dean, thank you for everything.” The younger man rasped, voice unsteady. His hazel eyes shined as he lifted them up, meeting tired, but equally shiny emerald ones, which sparkled under the sunlight which was now illuminating the room. “I did what I have always done Sammy... What I wanted to do.” Dean replied, voice soft. With his palm the older hunter moved brown locks away from his brother's forehead, before leaning forwards, stopping only mere inches away from Sam's lips. “I did what I wanted, and that's what I'm going to do right now as well.” He muttered, feeling Sam's body shaking. “Forgive me...” Sam whispered in such a low voice that Dean almost missed the words. “I have nothing to forgive, but if you need to hear it again, then...” Dean whispered, lips ghosting over Sam's tasting salty tears.

 

 

“I forgive you...” Dean said before covering the few millimeters which were keeping them apart, brushing his lips over Sam's gently, slowly and tenderly, licking them so as to gain access to that mouth he had come to adore. And when Sam moaned lowly, all while opening his mouth, Dean let his tongue caress every single inch, every hidden spot, for they all were his to claim. Sam tightened his hold on the front of Dean's shirt as he felt hot, puffy lips meeting his own, for he knew that feeling and he could tell that a fire had just started to burn deep inside him. Dean moaned as well, as his lips were met with the familiar taste of Sam's spit, and he pushed himself even closer to his brother as he inhaled the very same molecules of oxygen as the younger man did. 

 

 

The green eyed hunter broke the kiss after a while, but kept his brother close to him, feeling him relaxing in his arms. “I've made a mess of your shirt.” Sam muttered chuckling slightly. Dean smiled back at him as he made himself comfortable on the small bed. “Yeah, but, well... What can I say, other than you'll buy me a new shirt?” Sam's laughter was something Dean did not expect to hear and it caused a shiver to run down his spine. Pure and relieved it was, filled with love and gratitude. It was then that the green eyed man understood Sam had found his old self, or at least, most of it. And he couldn't be more happy at that moment, of that he was sure.

 

 

 

That moment, during which the sunlight illuminated the small room, casting the long, dreadful shadows away, casting all the lies, as well as all the hurt away, drying the tears which had been enough so as to flood the room... That moment, during which the truth was shining, bright, brighter than the sun itself, Dean eyed Sam, and saw the brother he loved so much. He saw the lines from his forehead began to fade, he saw the color returning to his cheeks, he saw those captivating hazel eyes shining and lost himself in them, in between the lines of green, blue and brown. 

 

Dean lost himself in Sam's eyes for what could have been forever, and felt his own eyes blurring at the sight of his brother, who was staring at him as though the older man would disappear at any moment. “So, three days is what we have...” Sam uttered, breaking the silence. “What do you say, we make the most of them?” He continued, letting his hands caress Dean's chest. Dean's eyes flew open then, but eventually soften, as the green eyed hunter lowered himself on the bed, cupping the back of Sam's head with one hand, as well as his lower back with the other, bringing them impossibly close. “Hell yeah Sammy, Hell yeah.” He replied, as his lips met Sam's... 

 

 

Thus, a new day was at hand, a bright day, which was meant to bring back the happiness, the hope and the closeness, which had been stolen from within Sam's grasp that one day, almost five months ago. And this time, nothing would get in the way. Because a new day was at hand, and this meant the mistakes of the past were known and forgiven... And the calendar said the day was Thursday, the 21th of August...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here ends chapter 26!! I hope that you've enjoyed it!! So, I have to say that the next chapter will most likely be the last one. Even if it's not, there will be two more chapters at most. As I've said before, the story will have a happy ending, so keep that in mind!  
> I don't know exactly when the next chapter will be coming out, but I'll try and make it as soon as possible!  
> Thank you all, yet again, for everything!  
> I hope that I haven't let you down with this one! Tell me what you think, if you want!  
> So, until next time,  
> I love you all,  
> Usagi!!


	27. "Because you're mine..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean belongs to Sam and Sam belongs to Dean... They get to spend the best of times together, and they slowly, but surely leave the past, the lies and the Deal, behind them...  
> "Because you're mine..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Yes, it' been too long. So, if you're still reading this... I need to thank you, and tell you that I had a hard time these past weeks. I needed to figure out how to end this story, and I finally did!! So, here is chapter 27! Title is taken from the famous song "I walk the line" By Johnny Cash!!  
> Off we go!!

THEN...

“Forgive me...” Sam whispered in such a low voice that Dean almost missed the words. “I have nothing to forgive, but if you need to hear it again, then...” Dean whispered, lips ghosting over Sam's tasting salty tears.“I forgive you...” Dean said before covering the few millimeters which were keeping them apart, brushing his lips over Sam's gently, slowly and tenderly, licking them so as to gain access to that mouth he had come to adore.

 

“So, three days is what we have...” Sam uttered,gasping for air, as soon as the kiss ended, “What do you say, we make the most of them?” “Hell yeah Sammy, Hell yeah.” Dean replied, as his lips met Sam's yet again... Sunlight then entered the room, and this meant that a new day was at hand, a bright day, which was meant to bring back the happiness, the hope and the closeness, which had been stolen from within Sam's grasp that one day, almost five months ago. And the calendar said the day was Thursday, the 21th of August... 

 

NOW... 

Sam would be lying, if he were to say that he ever wanted to get up and off the bed. His hazel eyes were fixed on Dean's face, which was calm at long last. The younger man found himself tracing Dean's brows, his long and fine eyelids, his well-shaped cheekbones, his relaxed jaw... He wanted to let his eyes linger on that face all day, he wanted it to be carved in the deepest part of his mind, he wanted it to become a memory which the cruelty of the world and the passing of time could not erase. 

 

“You've burned holes on my face, Sam. You may as well take a freaking picture.” The words were meant to tease, but Dean found himself unable to oblige his vocal chords to apply that certain tone. What came out of Dean's mouth, was a sound far from a tease and way closer to a whispered pile of words, wrapped in awe and adoration. “Shut up, jerk...” Sam replied, voice still hoarse from all the crying of the previous night. “'Sides, we don't have a camera.” “I beg your pardon, mister 'I-will-be-lawyer', but we do have a camera. It's in my duffle.” “The one Bobby had given us last year?” Sam questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. “That very same one.” Dean spat out, pretending to be offended, as Sam raised an eyebrow.

 

 

“What? You don't think I can keep my things with me?” Dean teased, and this time, his voice was indeed playful and slightly sarcastic. Sam eyed Dean then, and the older man found himself lost in those hazel eyes, for what could have been the hundredth time ever since the sun had risen in the sky. “So, um... What do you want us to do?” The younger man asked, face blushing. “Well, you're beat Sam, so how about getting some sleep-” “No, come on, I don't need to sleep Dean-” But Sam's protests were interrupted by the growl of his stomach, which had every right to interrupt, for Sam hadn't eaten anything for almost two days. 

 

 

“Well, for starters, I think you should go out and pick up some food for the both of us.” Dean declared, leaving no room for an actual argument. “There is a small diner down the road, it's not far.” “And what about you?” Sam heard himself asking, in a tone which made his own face frown. Insecurity was pouring out of him with every word. Blinking, Sam lowered his head and was fast on brushing the shadows away from his face. But as it would seem, he wasn't fast enough.

 

 

Dean sighed bitterly, pushing Sam on the mattress all the while he wiggled on the bed, placing himself atop of his brother. Locking his green orbs with red rimmed hazel ones, Dean cupped Sam's face in his hands, noticing that, the roughness of the bandage with which his right hand was wrapped, made Sam flinch. Dean fixed his eyes on Sam, and then swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “I should be the one fearing that you will walk out the door and won't come back here, Sam.” Dean said, voice low, stifled by Sam's neck, on which the older man was lying butterfly kisses. 

 

 

Dean could feel Sam's veins pounding under his lips as the younger man's heart was now beating faster, trying to rip his chest apart and give itself to Dean, who was lavishly laying kisses wherever he could think of. “Dean... God, stop, stop, stop it, please...” Sam nearly begged, making something break in Dean, who, despite Sam's plea, raised his face and moved, his lips now only inches away from Sam's puffy ones. The younger man placed his forearm over his eyes, covering them, knowing that he wasn't able to meet Dean's gaze. “No, I won't stop Sammy.” Declared Dean, his lips brushing over Sam's.

 

 

 

“Neither will I disappear while you're out. Because I want to be here...” Continued the green eyed man, biting Sam's bottom lip hard enough to make his brother remove his hand from his eyes. Hazel met emerald for yet another time and Dean leaned forwards, only this time slowly, as if he was waiting for Sam to pull away. However, when all Sam did, was to stare back at him with so much love in his eyes, Dean claimed his lips in a kiss filled with lust, passion and hope, in a kiss rough, wet, sloppy and deep, in a kiss which blocked any air from entering their lungs. On and on it went, for Sam pushed himself upwards, wrapping his legs around Dean's waist, and his hands around Dean torso. 

 

 

He needed to get closer, he needed more, for every cell of his body felt as though it was burning from the inside out, burning with lust and love. Sam drew Dean on him even more crushing him on his chest so hard that his sternum was aching under the pressure, but Sam couldn't care less, there was nothing outside of Dean, he needed nothing else, nothing more. He could feel his lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, he could feel his body starting to shake, his heartbeat starting to go nuts, but he just held on tighter, as if he wanted to become one with the older man, who had managed to move his mouth away from Sam's, so as to be able to finally breathe.

 

 

“No-” “Look at me Sam. Look at me, baby boy...” Dean muttered, gulping for breath, all the while his good hand found its way to the back of Sam's neck, and was now cupping the back of Sam's head. Sam shuddered, but eventually did as asked. “I came here for you, Sam, I've forgiven you, and I'm not leaving you.” Before the younger man could find something to say, Dean spoke again. “Don't. Don't say it's a chick-flick moment, don't say you know what I just said, don't even ask why, or how. You know the answer to those questions, Sam.” Dean uttered, voice sure, but soft.

 

 

“Just like I know, that you will keep beating yourself up for what happened for a long while and you won't stop, no matter what I may say, or do.” “Dean, I-” “But you have to move on Sam, okay?” Dean muttered, his breath hot against Sam's lips and nose. The younger man let his eyes fall closed, nodding his head. It wasn't much, but Dean knew it was a good start. Tilting his brother's chin upwards with his good hand, Dean brushed his lips over Sam's yet again, knowing that their taste was like a drug. God, what a cliche phrase to think of. Dean almost frowned at his own thought, but couldn't deny that, that was the case.

 

“So, I think I should go get a shower. Haven't had one ever since we killed the shape-shifter. God knows what rumors you'll spread about me touching you without having taken a shower!” Dean teased, smiling. Sam returned the smile, only his, was wider, and slowly got up and off the bed and headed towards the small table the room had, and started picking up all those things he had thrown on the floor last night. Once he was done, he reached for the door, but heard the splash of water as Dean stepped in the shower. Sam imagined Dean body, all wet and muscled, naked and beautiful, God, so beautiful...

 

 

The young man swallowed, gulping for breath and turned around in less than a blink of an eye. Screw the food, screw it all, Dean was in there, and he could finally touch him. He had waited long enough and wasn't going to wait any longer... The rustling of his clothes as they hit the floor was covered by the creak of the old bathroom door, as Sam pushed it open. The pitter-patter of Sam's naked feet on the old floor was what alerted Dean that his brother had not gone out to get food, and if Dean wanted to be honest with himself, he had to admit he was grateful about his brother's change of heart.

 

 

Sam stepped into the shower with an elegance which never ceased to amaze Dean. The younger man stood only inches away from his brother and Dean could feel – he could freaking feel- the slight tremors of Sam's body, he could feel its warmth, its need and he wanted to turn around and caress every curve, lick and kiss every inch, bury himself so deep inside... But he knew he would have to wait for Sam to make the first move, for his brother needed to move on, and become the one he was, before this whole mess with the so called 'Deal'. 

 

 

Thus, he waited, long, torturous moments, until finally, freaking finally, Sam, ever so slowly, placed a shaking hand on the small of Dean's back, which he then moved upwards, the tips of his fingers brushing on Dean's wet skin, making his muscles twitch with anticipation. They remained silent, and Dean allowed Sam to let his hands roam over the broad plane of his back, gently, yet urgently. Urgently, yes, for they both knew the fire which had never stopped burning within them, was now roaring to life. Sinful flames, made of passion, lust and desire were spreading, overrunning every corner of their bodies.

 

Sam hid his face in Dean's shoulder, his teeth and lips marking the skin, all the while his hands kept moving, from Dean's back to his waist and then to his hips, concealing them, caressing them. The older man clenched his fingers into fists and placed them on the semi-broken tiles before him, tilting his head to the side, so as to allow Sam more access to his neck. Moaning deep in his throat, the green eyed hunter felt the water running down his lean body, and then felt it getting trapped between his back and Sam's chest. “Sammy... God, Sammy...” Dean uttered, lowly, hesitantly, as if he was afraid Sam would just disappear, that he was but a mirage created by the foam and the heat.

 

Sam's eyes opened wide then, and his right hand -the wrist of which, was still wrapped with the shred of Dean's white shirt- moved upwards and halted as it reached a muscled chest, as it reached the spot above Dean's heart. “I wanted you to be lying... God, I wanted you to just drop the show and come to me... For all those months, I wanted you to come to me...” Dean said, his voice still low, wavering. “Remember the time you spoke of me hiding the fact I had nightmares from dad, while walking over to your bed to wake you up?” Sam replied, feeling his member coming alive rapidly. “Back then, on Bobby's yard. You had traced the slight crack in my voice, the barely-existing tremor of my hand as I touched you...” Sam continued.

 

“Yeah, I remember that...” Dean answered, relishing the feeling of Sam's tongue on his neck. “I've pleaded silently that you would see... That I had my back on you and I was facing dad, who really knew what was going on, for he was watching us from the window of Bobby's kitchen. I was begging that you could see the irony of it all...” Sam continued, but felt Dean shaking and paused, allowing his brother to speak. “God, how I wanted to touch you that night, God knows how much I wanted to touch you...” Dean confessed, breath hitching as he spoke. 

 

 

“You were so close and yet...” But Dean's voice got trapped in his throat and even though this could be a result of his cock coming alive, twitching in between his legs, Sam knew that it was because his brother couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence. 'So close, and yet, so very far away...' Was what Dean wanted to say, but never would, for he couldn't, for he didn't have to. Not anymore. Sam locked his lips around Dean's pulse point, all the while his hands moved further down, ghosting over his cock. “I'm here now Dean...” Sam muttered in the crook of his brother's neck, his tender fingers taking hold of Dean's hardening cock, making its owner moan deeply.

 

“God, Sammy...” Dean rasped, letting his head fall behind, where it touched Sam's right shoulder. Green eyes fluttered closed as Dean felt his member hardening more and more with every slow, graceful tug, Sam would give. Thin, long fingers traveled from base to tip, massaging the swelling flesh, playing with the pumping vein on the back of Dean's cock, as well as with heavy balls, which Sam rolled in his other hand. “Sam, I-” “I'm here Dean, open your eyes.” The younger man encouraged, making sure to fix his eyes with the ones of his brother, when Dean eventually opened then.

 

 

His pupils were dilated and Sam could barely see any green left in Dean's eyes, a sight which made him shudder and made his cock hard as a rock. But he put his own need aside, for Dean needed him more than he ever had. “I need you to look at me, lock your eyes with mine.” Sam urged, giving one more tug to Dean's cock, which was now fully erect, pumping within his palm. “Sam...” Dean uttered, as he felt his brother's erratic heartbeat on his back. “That's my heart beating Dean...” Sam said, soft words, which made his brother's brows come together. 

 

“So, you can touch me, you can hear me, smell me...” Sam continued, as his long fingers gave one more stroke to Dean's cock, which was now leaking pre-cum steadily. The older man took in a sharp breath, shuddering as Sam gathered the white drops of pre cum in his hand and spread them over Dean's cock a moment later. “You can taste me...” Sam whispered, as he tilted his head to his right, brushing his lips over Dean's, mixing their spit with drops of hot water. “You can feel me, all around you... I want you to feel me, Dean...” Sam rasped, voice almost inaudible. 

 

 

 

He then saw Dean's eyes widening, as the older man could now understand those words Sam had just uttered, were Dean's own words, which he himself had said to Sam as the two of them were taking a shower on Bobby's bathtub. Letting his lips form a smile, Sam just nodded his head in order to confirm Dean's thoughts and to answer to the question those green orbs had posed. “Feel me Dean...” Sam repeated and felt Dean giving up all control, succumbing to his body's wishes. His hips moved forwards and Dean felt his cock tightening and pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

 

“That's it, feel my hand around you, feel it rubbing you off, feel me Dean...” Sam chuckled, as he moved his body even closer to the one of his brother, making Dean's chest touch the old tiles. “Sam, you little bitch...” The older man spat, gulping for breath. He could barely speak, as he felt all of his blood was gathering in his cock, which he shamelessly slammed on Sam's fist, the friction made easier, by both the water, as well as his own pre cum. Gasping, Dean managed to turn around, getting a glimpse of Sam's flushed face as he did so. Their eyes met and Sam saw the need in Dean's green orbs.

 

Thus, he quickened his pace, moving his index finger around the head, feeling the pink, moist tissue burning under his touch. “Sam, God, Sammy...” Dean pleaded, and his brother moved forwards, capturing those puffed lips with his own. They both moaned and Dean arched his back and opened his legs even more, in order not only to balance himself, but for Sam to come closer in between his legs as well. He achieved both of those goals, especially the second one, for Sam slid even closer, and his fully erect member was now rubbing on Dean's hole in time with his strokes. 

 

Breaking the kiss in order to breathe, Sam gave three more strong tugs before feeling the two columns of tissue on each side of Dean's cock twitching, as hot, white cum was shot all over the wall and Sam's hand. Dean bit his lip, but Sam used his other hand to drive those lips apart, allowing Dean's voice to be heard. God, that almost animalistic sound of Sam's name, made the young man lose his mind. His vision blurred and he prayed that they wouldn't fall down, because Dean was shaking, lost in ecstasy, adrenaline running like fire in his veins. And Sam could do anything but watch, as Dean came and came and came, shooting ropes of come like he had never before.

 

Such was the intensity and duration of Dean's climax, that Sam thought he should stop working his brother's cock through the aftershocks, because the stimulation was way too much. He couldn't do that however, for he could see Dean needed him, needed Sam to keep him as grounded as possible. Sam darted his head to the side and tried to take a look of his brother's face, but Dean's growl made him freeze and turn his brother's body around. “Dean, Dean, hey, hey, you good?” Sam questioned, his voice high pitched. “Sammy...” Dean eventually muttered, opening his eyes half the way. “Dude, what the hell, you shot a gallon, you had me worried for a second.”Sam smiled then, softening his voice. 

 

 

“Yeah, I... I needed that, sorry if you thought I would dissolve into cum...” Dean admitted, chuckling, voice low. “Yeah, or you could just say I gave you one hell of a hand job!” Sam boasted, but his chuckle was turned into a long, deep gulp as he felt Dean changing their positions. Sam was now the one, whose back was touching the old tiles and Dean was the one who was in between Sam's legs. Kneeling, Dean braced himself, grabbing Sam's hips, one with each hand, and locked his eyes with Sam's burning ones. 

 

 

They stayed still for just a fragment of a second, feeling the hot water running down their bodies, before Dean took Sam's rock hard cock in his mouth, moaning as he tasted hot drops of pre cum on his tongue, as soon as his lips had closed in around Sam's erection. Sam felt his heart freeze in his chest, his cock twitched and his hands were shaking. Moving as if they had a mind of their own, Sam's hands, grabbed Dean's head in less than a blink of an eye. Dean let his tongue move around the head of Sam's cock and the younger man felt his heart slamming on itself with such force that he was sure it could break. “God, D- Dean!” Sam rasped desperately, his voice thick and low.

 

Dean widened his cheeks and sucked, hard, fast and dirty, sucked once, twice, and a third time, moaning as he did so. And that was all it took for Sam to come, filling every corner of Dean's mouth, making the older man swallow every last bit of cum. Dean however, kept sucking, on and on he went, dragging his teeth along the length of Sam's cock, which shot a few more, smaller ropes of come as a response to Dean's motions. “Dean, Dean, ah...” Sam whined, voice wavering, body writhing with adrenaline. Sam's hands tightened their hold on Dean's hair, his nails digging lines in Dean's scalp.

 

 

Dean released Sam's member, which was now lying utterly spend in between Sam's shaking legs. Raising his green eyes, Dean met his brother's gaze, noticing it was watery, unfocused. “Sammy?” Dean asked, as he rose to his feet. But the younger man said nothing, he just took Dean's face in his shaky hands. Leaning forwards, Sam slid his tongue in his brother's mouth, tasting himself on those lips. Crossing his hands behind Dean's torso, Sam pressed his body on Dean's, hiding his face in between his brother's neck and shoulder.

 

It took Dean a while, but he returned the hug, letting his own hands lock around Sam's back, caressing the wet skin. And then he understood what was happening. Sam wanted this to be Bobby's bathroom, he wanted time to move backwards, he wanted to grab Dean and leap through time, change all the wrong choices, walk down the right paths, he wanted to erase everything that had happened. Dean tightened his hold around Sam's shaking figure, smiling sadly. In all his cleverness, Sam was still young, despite all the horrors he had witnessed, he was still innocent. 

 

Time could not turn back, events could not be undone, choices could no longer be altered. Dean had learned that the hard way. But as he felt Sam's breath on his neck, as he felt water engulfing them, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could let Sam's innocence and love-- which was as strong and as true as that day in Bobby's bathroom-- try and erase all the bad memories, let them turn back the clock. As he inhaled, his lungs were filled with Sam's scent and Dean let his eyes flutter closed. “I love you, Dean...” The green eyed man heard his brother uttering and kissed the back of his head. “I know Sammy... I know.” Was all he responded, for there was nothing else he could say.

 

Thus, the brothers broke the hug and reluctantly moved a few inches away from one another. They started washing up and Sam cleaned Dean's back, his touches light and gentle. In exchange, Dean did Sam's hair, savoring the feeling of soft, brown locks in between his fingers. When they were both cleaned up of all the dirt, the cum and the sweat, they stepped out of the bathroom, dried themselves with the towel and got dressed. Smiling at one another, they grabbed some cash and Dean's gun and walked out of the room. They needed to eat.

 

 

The diner was old, with just a small fan as a way of cooling the room, which actually meant that, either one was standing in the middle of the road with the sun up above his head, or he was sitting inside the diner, it made no difference whatsoever. The boys sat on the table which was closer to the fan, and away from the windows. The old, cheap leather which was covering the chairs made it all that harder for Sam to stay still, as he was constantly sweating, even though he had just taken a shower. Huffing in annoyance, Sam raised his head to look at Dean, surprised that his brother was smiling.

 

 

“What?” Was all Sam asked, voice peachy. He attempted to find a cool spot on the chair, but failed, and so he just rested his hands on the table. “You've got the jitters, Sammy.” Dean stated, voice playful. Sam shot a bitchface right at him and wondered how could Dean be so relaxed and cheerful when every pore of his body was producing sweat. Before he could say anything however, a brown haired waitress came over to their table, pen in one hand, a piece of paper in the other. “What can I get you boys?” Asked the young woman. 

 

 

 

“Well, the room just got hotter, huh?” Dean teased, making the woman smile widely and Sam scrambled a sweaty hand on his face. “I think that it did...” The waitress replied, but Dean could see she was just playing along. “I will leave the menus here, wave your hand when you're ready.” Dean nodded his head and watched as the woman walked away, casting swift glances over her shoulder back to Dean. “Seriously, dude, she's like, ten years older than you!” Sam spat, his voice sharper than he intended it to be. “Oh, Sammy, look at you, all worked up, sweaty, jealous...” Dean teased, a wide smile painted all over his face.

 

 

“I'm not jealous, Dean, but seriously-” Sam however, stopped talking as he saw Dean's hand moving. He then felt Dean's palm on his hair, but before he could even say a word, his brother shuffled his hair, raking his fingers through them, making them a mess. “Dean, stop!” Shoving Dean's hand aside, Sam wanted to get pissed. He really did. Only problem was, he couldn't. Because Dean was sitting across from him, one hand on the table, the other looming over the right side of his face. His index and middle finger were both slightly supporting Dean's temples as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes soft and bright, his lips pulled upwards, into an honest smile. God, that face. Bright, well-shaped, with perfect curves and edges...

 

 

No, Sam couldn't get mad, because Dean was happy, he was so freaking happy, that Sam wanted to just get up, grab him and kiss him, right there and then, in that nameless diner, with the old, creaking metallic fan echoing in the background. But the best part of it all, was that Sam knew why Dean was so happy. Because things were as they should be, once again, because they were finally together with no lies, no misunderstandings, no thick walls coming in between them. At that thought, Sam's lips turned upwards and he just let his gaze fall on his brother yet again.

 

 

“So, what can I get ya'?” Said the waitress, who had just returned and was hovering over Dean. “Well, I'll have a double cheeseburger and a beer, as for mister Sasquatch here-” “I'll take the salad, please.” Sam said gently, handing over the menu. “Sam, you haven't eaten-” “I'll be fine Dean-” “Um, could you, maybe, throw some chicken in that salad?” Dean questioned, eyeing the woman with one of those looks he had deemed as 'capable of making a girl melt right where she stood.' “Sure thing, it's just a little bit more expensive.” She added, her face softening as she spoke. “No, thank you, I'll just have the salad-” “Make it a special one, with chicken.” Dean cut off, waving his thanks to the, still, smiling woman.

 

 

“Dean, we can't afford-” “Just shut up and let me put some food in you!” The older man rasped, his face losing its brightness. Sam exhaled slowly and finally gave up, letting his hands fall to his sides. Well aware of Sam's resignation, Dean moved closer to his brother and let his thumb brush over his right wrist. “You're still wearing this?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow. Sam just shrug his shoulders. “It was part of my birthday present, so it's mine to wear.” Sam replied and Dean let his thumb ran small circles on the shred of his white shirt. Silence then fell over the small table, a much needed silence. The brothers had all they needed. They had each other. Words had no place, or power at that moment.

 

 

The waitress interrupted them soon after, bringing Dean's burger, as well as Sam's salad, in which she had added many-way too many- small bits of chicken. Both boys dived in happily, savoring every bite of their food. Dean finished his first, licking the plate clean and moved his back slightly, so as to get more comfortable on his chair. “Man, that was awesome!” Exclaimed the older hunter, as he took a sip of his beer, relishing the coolness of it as it was flowing down his system. Sam raised his eyes from his plate, smiled and then kept eating. God, those smiles could be the death of Dean...

 

“What?” Sam questioned, chuckling slightly. “Nothing, it's nothing, come on, eat, you Bigfoot.” Dean replied, putting the bottle of beer down on the table with a light thump. Sam took a hold of it, taking long sips, feeling the familiar coolness spreading inside of him. Gulping for breath, he let the bottle on the table and smiled at his brother. “What? I'm eighteen, you know.” Sam declared and Dean raised an eyebrow, reclaiming the bottle. “Eat, Sammy.” Was all he said, voice quiet, filled with happiness. “Admit it. You think of other things when you watch me wrapping my lips around the neck of the bottle.” Sam dared to say, voice low, husky, his eyes burning.

 

 

Swallowing hard, the young man felt his blood leaving his body and gathering up in his face and cock. He bowed his head in shame and took one more bite of his salad, while taking a mental note not to choke on it. “You're right...” Dean whispered, as he tilted Sam's head upwards with his hands. “You're so right...” He repeated and let out a small laugh, easing back on his chair. Sam was stunned for a second, but he then eased back as well, changing the subject of their conversation, for both their sakes. He knew he was right, and he would prove it to Dean soon enough. 

 

And so, they sat there, talking about everything and nothing, talking about possible hunts, about the heat, about Sam becoming a lawyer... Talking, smiling, legs tangled up, under the table. Under that small table, in that diner by the road, with the creaky fan and the cute waitress, who was looking at them from a corner in the kitchen. “So, no luck with either of them?” Asked a short, grumpy man. “No, I'm afraid not. They are not interested...” The waitress replied, smiling widely. “But I have you, right?” “Damn straight you do!” The man replied, returning the smile.

 

 

The boys waited until the sun had moved to the west and the heat had ebbed, before leaving the diner, taking with them two pieces of pie, because Dean needed to have pie! The sky had been dyed orange as they walked out of the door and towards their motel room, shoulders brushing together. It was then, that Dean's phone rang. “A text.” Announced Dean, as he looked at the small screen. “Dean, what is it?” Sam asked after moments of silence. “It's nothing. Bobby says he and dad just arrived back in Sioux Falls.” Dean replied calmly, putting the phone back in his pocket.

 

Sam felt his stomach clenching at the sound of those words. It was Bobby who had texted, not John. Lowering his gaze, Sam moved passed Dean, but the older man grabbed him by the wrist, his grip firm, but not harmful. “It's my fault-” “Sam, it's fine. I promise you, it's fine, okay?” Dean declared holding Sam close, feeling his breath on his face. The younger man sighed in defeat and so Dean brushed the hair away from his forehead and behind his ear, before leaning closer. “I promise you, Sammy...” Dean reassured, as his lips met Sam's and tasted beer, chicken and something which was pure Sam. The kiss was slow, but promising and the brother's broke it after the need for oxygen had kicked in.

 

 

As they returned to the motel room, Dean ate the pie and Sam took yet another shower. It was still relatively early, but the younger man was feeling tired and his eyes were unfocused. “Okay, time for bed, Sammy.” Dean muttered, getting up from the chair he had been sitting. “Dean, dude, come on-” “How long has it been since you had a good night's sleep?” “Dean-” “Too long Sam, it's been too long.” Dean said, and Sam could understand what his brother meant. Yeah, five months had been a long time indeed. Both men changed into more comfortable clothes and laid on the bed, which cracked under their weight. 

 

Wiggling closer to one another, Dean let his chest touch Sam's back, while he placed his right hand over his brother's waist. “You're fucking cuddling.” Sam huffed, but he somehow made his body smaller, so as to fit in, in Dean's embrace. “Plus, it's way too hot in here-” “Go to sleep, Sammy.” Dean encouraged, his fingers raking through brown locks. But Sam didn't want to, he didn't want to waste time on sleeping, he didn't need to sleep. “Stop thinking. Just go to sleep. I'll be here, okay?” Dean whispered, prompting himself up on one elbow, so as to take a look of Sam's face. 

 

Sam's eyelids were heavy, but he kept fighting sleep, turning around to face Dean. “It's fine, I don't-” “I'll wake you up, I promise.” Dean assured, eyes serious, voice low, meaningful. Sam looked in those emerald orbs and bit his lip, knowing that Dean was referring to the nightmares which were tormenting Sam, most of the nights. Inhaling soundly, Sam nodded in approval, muttering a muffled 'thank you', as he hid his face in the crook of Dean's neck. Thus, Dean kept stroking Sam's hair, all the while whispering King's Arthur's vow, well aware that Sam had associated that thin book, with Dean's own voice.

 

And so it was, that Sam finally fell asleep, despite the heat and the dry air which was blowing. And this time, when Dean made his appearance in Sam's dream, he wasn't covered in blood, or gore. No, Dean was smiling, standing in the middle of a field, offering his hand to Sam, who took it without having second thoughts. There, they ran on the plain field, the grass moist and green, caressing their feet. And Sam was laughing, a sound clear and loud, filled with life. Dean opened a bottle of beer and took a sip, sitting down on the ground. 

 

Sam looked at him, his figure almost angelic, under the light of the sun, which was steadily heading to the west. The curves of Dean's body were all so perfect, as if he was a sculpture carved on the finest glass. Glass, yes, for as the last rays of sunlight fell on Dean, it was as though it was passing right through him, as if it was getting trapped within him, turning him into a bright star, so, so bright. And Sam stretched his hand, because, God, that light was purifying, it was too bright, yet, Sam couldn't turn away from it. Only then did he realize, this was the light of Dean's very soul.

 

 

Gasping, Sam dared to move forwards, his shaky hands hovering over each side of Dean's soft face. The air swept around them, making the leaves rustle as they danced in circles. “Dean, what... What is this...?” But all Dean did, was to smile widely, and by God, Sam was sure he hadn't seen a wider smile painted across Dean's face, not ever. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his voice wavered as he spoke, coming out thick, and low. “D-Dean, I...” But Dean shushed him, his thin, glowing fingers brushing over his lips. 

 

 

“It's me Sam... That's me, it's me, baby... And that's me, because you love me...” Dean muttered, ever so slowly, making Sam's breath hitch. His eyes widened then, as he remembered his own thoughts about Dean, thoughts he knew were mutual... 'What better reason to exist, if not to be loved, even a little, by the person you love the most?' Dean knew Sam loved him, and that was enough for him to be happy, it was enough to make his very soul rejoice. Sam's love, was enough to break through the darkness of Dean's mind, tear the veils of insecurity and self-loathing apart. It was enough to engulf his entire existence in a blinding light...

 

 

Sam moved then, tears running down his cheeks freely. Sam let his lips brush over Dean's, setting a slow pace, because he didn't want this to end. Because he could once again be sure, that he existed for Dean, and that would never change, no matter where he would be. Yes, he existed for Dean, and Dean, existed for him... 

 

 

When Sam woke up the next day, he was feeling much better. Dean had been right, it had been too long since he had had a good night's sleep. He stretched up, joints popping as he moved. Prying his eyes open, Sam had to blink in order for his eyes to adjust in the light, which was illuminating the room. To his surprise, his eyes were dry and bright, and his face had regained its color. Dean was sitting on a chair by the small table, and was fully clothed, eyes focused on the newspaper he was holding. 

 

 

“Morning...” Sam uttered, swallowing to soften his voice. Dean darted his head towards him, letting go of the newspaper. “Morning to you too, sleeping beauty...” He replied chuckling. “Although it's not morning anymore. It's 2 pm, just so you know.” “What? Why didn't you-” But Sam's bubbling was short lived, as Dean came over to the bed and shielded his lips with his own, swallowing the words, the soft moans and whimpers, sucking Sam's breath out of him. Well, he could have it all, for all Sam knew. “You needed sleep.” Dean stated, eyes bright. 

 

 

“So, what are we going to do?” Sam questioned as he got up and off the bed. “Well firstly, we're going to get some food. Then, we'll go on a walk, a long walk-” “A what?” Sam said, raising an eyebrow. Dean however, ignored him and kept talking. “And then, we'll have sex. I owe you something, Sam.” Dean muttered, licking his lips. Sam's eyes widened then, and he felt his cock hardening in his pants. “What's that?” He managed to ask, as he eyed Dean, who was still leaning on the bed. “We never got to do that thing... I never got the chance to let you ride me... Face to face this time.” Dean whispered, voice sinfully low.

 

Sam stayed still, as his mind traveled to the past... 'Sammy, I promise you, tomorrow we are so, going to do this face to face, I'll let you ride me, Sammy... Oh fuck...' “Remember Sammy?” Dean asked, getting up from the bed. Walking towards Sam, Dean let his hands roam all over his brother's chest, their touch bringing Sam to the present. “Of course I remember, God, Dean...” Sam uttered, moaning under those gun callused hands, which were working his body as if it was made of Plasticine. Smiling, Dean grabbed Sam, kissing him hard and fast, a kiss all teeth and heat.

 

 

As they parted, the boys gasped and took a minute to pull themselves together. Then, Dean took his wallet and his gun and opened the door, waving his hand for Sam to follow him. Sam halted for a second, and turned around to grab that camera Dean had mentioned. He did find it in Dean's duffle and then followed his brother out the door. The sun was once again right above them, burning, traveling the endless skies from one side to the other... And underneath it, two brothers walking hand in hand, fooling around, taking pictures of themselves and of the scenery, at random. Living each and every moment at its fullest. 

 

And as the wind blew, coming down the road, dry and hot, it brought with it faint words,the lyrics of an old, familiar song. Sam halted, smiled slightly and then turned his gaze on his brother. It was him, who had started singing. His voice low, wavering, yet audible to Sam. Yes, to Sam, and Sam alone. And as they kept walking down the road, Dean's voice got carried away, by the whistling wind...

 

“I keep a close watch on this heart of mine  
I keep my eyes wide open all the time  
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds  
Because you're mine, I walk the line...

 

I find it very, very easy to be true  
I find myself alone when each day is through  
Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you  
Because you're mine, I walk the line

 

As sure as night is dark and day is light  
I keep you on my mind both day and night  
And happiness I've known proves that it's right  
Because you're mine, I walk the line

You've got a way to keep me on your side  
You give me cause for love that I can't hide  
For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide  
Because you're mine, I walk the line

 

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine  
I keep my eyes wide open all the time  
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds  
Because you're mine, I walk the line...”

And down the road they went...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it ends!! 
> 
> Song: "I walk the line"  
> Artist: Johnny Cash  
> Year of release: 1957  
> Album: With His Hot and Blue Guitar
> 
> I own Nothing!!!
> 
> Chapter 28 will be the last one. It will have sex, and the happy ending, which I promised!! Thank you for reading and please, please tell me what you thought of it!  
> No beta reader, so all mistakes are mine... :(
> 
> Until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!


	28. Just a Note(No2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, just a note to let you know what's going on...

Hey there, I hope you're doing great, and that you're all healthy and happy...  
I just want to let you know that I heve NOT GIVEN UP ON THIS STORY. 

 

I know that I haven't updated in a while, but I really had no choice. I need to focus on my studies for the next three weeks-- even more than I already have-- because we have an exam period. I am taking seven tests within these three weeks and I have to succeed to six out of seven, or else I'll have to do an extra year at college. 

 

So, I wanted to say that I will not be able to update for the next three weeks or so. I have the chapter all thought up and sorted out in my head, and I'm telling you, it's going to be a loooong one. I am possitive that I will be able to update within the first week of July. 

 

I am so sorry that I have made you wait for so long, I really am. All of you, you have been supporting me for so long and I feel really bad right now. But you have to at least, try and understand, I am not sleeping well, and I am going through a very rough and stressful time. I am on the verge of having panic attacks all the time... 

 

Atop of all that I have health issues as well, so I am on painkilles so as to be able to study (That's what you get when the weather goes nuts and you have old surgery scars on you...)

 

That being said, I am just hoping that you'll understand and that you'll still want to read the new and final chapter, when I'll post it.   
Once again, I am so sorry for being so late.  
I deeply thank you all for everything, all your support and your kind words. You'll never know how much strength you've being giving me!

So, until next time,   
I love you all,  
Usagi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that you won't be too mad at me!!


	29. Epilogue: Finding Ithaca: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean reunite as our story ends...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I am finally done with my exams and I am so happy with myself! I have done very well on most of them!!! 
> 
> So, we have reached the end of this looooong journey.... My God, more than a year has gone by, since I posted the first chapter.... I know that the story is far from a good one, as it has many mistakes. But I so happy that I made it, that I completed it!!
> 
> About the final chapter, which was huge, so I posted it in two parts:   
> 1)All the names of the characters at the police station ARE FICTIONAL. I came up with them. Any possible similarity with a real-life person is just a coincidence!!!!  
> 2) I know nothing about America's laws, so everything you're about to read are made up!  
> 3) I have never been to the US, so when it comes to locations and driving time from one place to another, I use the internet to find it out. Please forgive any mistakes!!!  
> 4) you're about to read explicit sexual content. I mean really graphic sexual content. Be warned.   
> 5) About the Title: Ithaca, is an island in Greece. Myth has it that Odysseus spent 20 years after the Trojan war, trying to return to his homeland, to the island of Ithaca. Thus, finding Ithaca, means that one finds what he has been looking for, for a long time. Ithaca symbolizes the end of a long road, the end of a journey.
> 
> So, I think I have said enough!  
> Off we go!!!

THEN...

Friday, August 22, 2001

In a motel room in Illinois  
2:12 PM

Dean took his wallet and his gun and opened the door, waving his hand for Sam to follow him. Sam halted for a second, and turned around to grab that camera Dean had mentioned. He did find it in Dean's duffle and then followed his brother out the door. The sun was once again right above them, burning, traveling the endless skies from one side to the other... And underneath it, two brothers walking hand in hand, fooling around, taking pictures of themselves and of the scenery, at random. Living each and every moment at its fullest. 

 

NOW...  
Tuesday, 8th of January, 2002  
Police station, Fremont, California  
11:40 pm...

 

“You better talk, you hear me?” The man in the uniform rasped, voice edgy, threatening, filled with anger. “Yeah, I hear you, in fact, I have been listening to you for the past half an hour.” Dean replied as he leaned further into the uncomfortable chair he had been placed on. “I'll ask one last time, why were you digging Laura's grave?” The man spat, his words poisonous and sharp. “I told you...” Dean mumbled as he darted his head to the side to get a glimpse of the man's name tag. “I am a federal agent, officer Stive, I was sent to the cemetery-” “Cut the crap boy, because my patience has its limits, and believe me when I say, you don't want to be on the receiving end when I snap, do you understand?” The officer questioned, in a promising voice.

 

“Yeah, I bet you have quite a temper...” Dean replied, letting his lips form a small smile, all the while he hid his cuffed hands under the desk so as to hide their shaking. “You bet I do, now, for the last time, what were you doing-” “I told you-” The thumping of the officer's fist as it clashed on the wooden desk made Dean pause and raise his green eyes to look at the older man who was bent over the desk. “You are no cop, kid. Your name isn't Dreak Macwood, as you state, and the grave you dared to dig, was my wife's grave.” The officer--Stive-- hissed as his eyes narrowed, becoming two slits on his face. Two slits, which could only see a man who had assaulted what was left of an once, mesmerizing woman.

 

 

Dean sighed and looked around the small office. There was one more cop, sitting by the door and two more, which Dean could hear talking in the next office. The windows were all barred and the cop who was questioning him, was holding a teaser in his left hand. There was no way Dean could take out all of the men and leave the police station. “So, you won't tell me...” The officer said, bringing Dean out of his thoughts. “Fine, then I will-” “Sir, we found no vehicle anywhere near the cemetery. As it seems, the man was on foot.” Dean turned his face towards the door and saw a tall man leaning on the door frame.

 

 

Dean blew out a sigh of relief, at the sound of those words. He had decided to walk to the cemetery and had left the Impala parked at the nameless motel he was staying. Yes, he needed the cold winter's air to blow on his face, needed it to enter his system and freeze it, so that he wouldn't end up coming to blows with his father. “A gun, those two pieces of paper, a cell phone and some money, were the only things we found in his pockets, Sir.” The other officer stated, continuing his report. He walked into the office and laid the items he had just listed on the far side of the table and as far away from Dean's reach as possible. 

 

 

“Very well Nick, you can go now.” “Yes, sir.” The man who was apparently named Nick replied and he walked away from the desk, reclaiming his spot by the threshold. “No, leave us alone Nick, and shut the door behind you.” Stive ordered, and the other man carried out the order wordlessly. As soon as the door was shut, Stive grabbed the first piece of paper and unfolded it with steady hands. “Look, Stive-” “It's 'officer Stive' to you, kid. And those here, are the coordinates to the city's Cemetery, in which we caught you.” Stive announced, voice sharp. “Why do you have them?” The man asked, bringing the small piece of paper, before emerald green eyes. 

 

“I told you, they sent me here to-” “Let's see what this other thing says.” The officer said, cutting Dean off. “Hey, that is personal, you don't have the right to read it-” But Dean's protests fell on deaf ears as the man took the other piece of paper in his hands and unfolded it with much more roughness than it was necessary. “I warn you officer, that is mine, keep your hands off it-” Dean tried again, but those words were the ones which made the officer erupt. “My wife's grave was something you should have kept your hands off of as well, but no, you had to get there, dig it and try to put it on fire!” Stive yelled, his voice bitter.

 

 

“I was just doing my job, officer.” Dean replied, voice low, for he was aware of the man's pain. “Yeah, because my wife is a ghost which came back to haunt me.” Stive mocked, raising an eyebrow. “If I was to say 'yes' to this, would you let me go?” Dean questioned, voice slightly hopeful. The man held Dean's gaze for a long moment, but then his face twitched with pain and he returned his eyes to the second piece of paper, which he was still holding in his hand. “Don't play with me, kid.” He muttered in a gravely tone. “I am not playing with you. Your wife's grave must be burned-” But Dean's answer was cut short, for the man started reading what was on that paper.

 

 

My dear Dean...

 

I know you will be pissed at me for leaving without waking you up to say goodbye, but, well, you made the rules. 'No chick-flick moments, right? God, this is harder than I thought it would be... So hard, Dean... You always said that I knew my way around words, but, as it turns out, I can barely put my thoughts in order. 

“What is this, a love letter?” Stive asked, and Dean battled the panic which was building inside him. “It's mine, please, just... Just give it to me, sir, please.” Dean muttered, eyeing the older man beseechingly. “So, you're Dean.” It wasn't a question, it was a statement. “Sir, just-” But the man kept talking and Dean felt the world caving out from under his feet. He couldn't let this man read the letter, for those words were meant for Dean and Dean alone. So, in a blink of an eye, the green eyed man pushed the chair on which he had been sitting backwards, all the while bending forwards, so as to grab the officer's wrist.

 

Stive was caught off guard by this act and took several steps backwards, letting go of the letter, which landed on the desk. Before Dean could reach out and grab it however, he heard the man who had just left the room, knocking on the closed door. “You bastard!” Stive rasped as he regained his composure. In two large steps he got around the desk and next to Dean, his fingers clenched into fists. “I'm sorry, but you can't read that letter officer.” Dean repeated as he felt the other man grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. 

 

“Nick, get in here, now!” Stive ordered and no sooner had the words left his lips than the door opened, relieving the younger man who had brought the letter to Stive a few minutes earlier. Dean felt Nick grabbing both his hands, pinning them behind his back. “Throw him in the cell and lock him up. Maybe he needs some 'alone-time' to think and clear his mind.” Stive instructed, glancing out of the window of the office and across the hall, where a small cell was lying. “Listen to me, you're in danger, your wife is-” “Lock him up!” The officer repeated angrily, all the while he grabbed the letter with his right hand, making it a ball in his grasp.

 

“Mike, Lukas, come in here now!” Stive shouted, his voice rough and hard. Not a minute later, two officers, which were the ones Dean had heard talking from the next office, came bursting into the room. One of them grabbed Dean's right hand, while the other one took a hold of Dean's left one, and without saying a word they moved in sync, half-dragging Dean away from Stive's office, away from that folded piece of paper he was still holding...

 

 

Dean's green eyes fell on the man's iron grip around that so fragile piece of paper and then watered as he was taken away and across the hall by the two officers who had heard the argument and had come to help Stive out. The men dropped Dean to the small cell, locking the door before turning around to leave. A minute later, Nick was walking towards the bars, his face grim and serious. “Listen to me, that Stive guy, he is in trouble, you have to let me out-” But Dean's words were cut off by Nick's low voice. 

 

 

“You shouldn't have done what you did, kid. It was his wife's grave. And today, it used to be her birthday.” Nick muttered, voice bitter. He glanced over his shoulder to Dean, who had grabbed the bars with both hands, and for a mere moment, it seemed to the hunter that Nick would listen to him. “You don't understand, I am trying to help-” “Yeah, you have a weird way of doing that.” Nick said, sighing in defeat. “I shouldn't be doing this, but...” The next second, Dean saw the letter Stive had taken from him in Nick's hand. The man passed it through the bars and let it fall on the floor before turning away from Dean. 

 

“He didn't read it. He wouldn't.” Nick muttered, more to himself, rather than Dean, and started walking away, back to the office from which he had come from. So, Dean was left alone, locked in a small cell, knowing that there was a ghost lurking around the area. The ghost of Stive's dead wife. But Dean could do nothing about that anymore. John had instructed him to take the case and work it alone, for he had other things to worry about. He had stayed in Sioux Falls, while Dean had come to California, to deal with this supernatural threat. 

 

 

To John, it was one more hunt, it didn't matter that it was merely one day before Dean's birthday, which meant that, even if he managed to solve the case in time, he would still spend his birthday on the road, driving back to Sioux Falls. Nor did it matter that Dean would have to battle his heart's desire, which was a simple, yet forbidden one. Dean would be so close to Palo Alto, so close to Sam... Yet he wasn't allowed to see him, for the hunt came first.

 

 

Yes, the hunt, always the hunt, never anything, or anyone else. Because, the only thing that mattered were the cases, the training, the guns... Dean sighed wearily, as he sat down on the small bed the cell provided. Rubbing a hand on his frowned face, the hunter glanced across the hall and caught a glimpse of Stive sitting on his chair, his eyes fixed on Dean, waiting for answers.

 

But the green eyed man had no more answers to give, no more strength to keep lying either. So he lay down, with his back on the scratchy mattress and his eyes on the ceiling and waited. For what, he wasn't sure, but he waited. One part of him was waiting for Laura's ghost to storm in and cause havoc on its path, while another part of him, had simply surrendered to numbness. Yes, he had partly given up, for who was left to care about him? 

 

 

All of a sudden, music surrounded the cold, dark office, as well as Dean's cell. Darting his head upwards, Dean saw that Stive had turned on a small radio and was leaning on his chair, with an old picture in his rough hand. Dean leaned back on the bed, holding the, still folded letter, in his right hand, close to his heart, while with his other, he rubbed his eyes, before letting them flutter closed.

 

Yes, Dean let his eyes flutter closed, for there was nothing for them to witness and allowed his mind to travel backwards, and linger on the last happy memories it could find. Memories of the last day he and Sam had spent together, back there, in Illinois...

 

Friday, the 22th of August, 2001

Somewhere in Illinois...

 

The sun was once again right above Sam and Dean, burning, traveling the endless skies from one side to the other... And underneath it, the two brothers were walking hand in hand, fooling around, taking pictures of themselves and of the scenery, at random. Living each and every moment at its fullest. After all, it was the last day they would spend together. Tomorrow with the break of dawn, Sam was planning to sneak out of the room silently, and catch the first bus to California. But until then, he was planning on enjoying every second of the day. 

 

“So...” Dean said after a while, during which the brothers had withdrawn themselves in yet another diner. “Will you stop taking pictures?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as he spoke, all the while he pushed aside his, now empty plate. “Come on, Dean, this is why Bobby gave us the camera, to use it.” Sam answered, idly dragging his gaze along the side of the road, which he could see from the window of the diner they were in. He heard Dean sighing. Was it a sigh of defeat, or annoyance Sam didn't know, but frankly, he didn't care either. He wanted this day to never end, he wanted to get stuck in an endless loop and relive every moment forever.

 

 

But nothing lasts forever, unless you find a way to trap those moments, a way to freeze time. And for all Sam knew, time could get trapped in a photograph, and in that photograph it could stay frozen, until the passing of time would make the bright colors fade away and the beautiful surrounding scenery blur. But Sam refused to think of that and just kept taking pictures...

 

Pictures of Dean with his mouth full as he was eating his burger, pictures of Dean leaning backwards in his chair while taking a sip of his beer, pictures of Dean... “Dude, come on, stop acting as a five-year-old who gets a Christmas present. You've been hovering over me holding that thing the entire time we have been in the diner.” Dean said, annoyance now filling his voice. Sam blushed slightly, and hid the old camera from Dean's line of sight, but made sure to keep it at arms length as the boys left the diner and got inside their beloved Impala. 

 

 

“So, where are we going?” Sam questioned, smiling widely. “Wherever the road will lead us, Sammy.” The older man replied, voice now smooth and gentle. They got in the car, taking their usual seats in it, Dean behind the wheel, Sam right next to him, in the passenger's seat. The doors were closed at the same time and Sam couldn't help, but smile at the way he and Dean moved at the same time. The engine roared to life and Dean patted the steering wheel with the tips of his fingers. “Well baby, you won't fail us now, will you?” Dean asked, making Sam's smile widen.

 

As a way of answering, the all too familiar 'purr' of the engine was heard and Dean muttered “that's my girl” under his breath. Pressing his foot on the gas pedal, the green eyed man rolled down the windows, letting the dry summer breeze swirl in the car, which roared again and began tearing the asphalt in half. Soon, Dean pressed down the gas pedal even more, entering the main road and following it for a long time. Sam felt himself relaxing in those all too familiar leather seats and let his gaze wander out the window.

 

 

The sun was once again heading to the west and the heat was finally bearable, as a dry, but nonetheless existing breeze, kept blowing from the south. The boys remained quiet for a long time, each one of them savoring the intimacy which they could feel all around them, a feeling they had been robbed of, for so long. The road was going on and on, until at some point, a long line of tall trees appeared on the right side of the road, shading Sam's figure, blogging the, almost blinding, yellow-orange light of the afternoon sun. Sam let out a sigh of relief, extending his hand, the tips of his fingers brushing the branches of the trees. And so, they kept going, a long desired silence hanging in the air.

 

Soon, however, Sam broke the silence, speaking lowly, with long pauses in between his words. “Dean, could you, maybe, pull over?” He asked as soon as his eyes saw that they were getting closer to the last bunch of trees.“You need to take a leak?” Dean asked, his eyes flicking between his brother and the road. “No, just, pull over, please.” “Okay, alright princess...” Dean complied and got off the road, killing the engine. Sam got his head out of the open window and inhaled deeply, his eyes fixed on the naked branches of the trees, which were spreading above the car, blocking most of the light. As a result, dancing shadows were created and reflected on the ground.

 

 

The whistling of the wind made the few leaves which had remained on the trees, or were idly lying on the ground rustle, as they swirled around with the wind. “This is where I will always end up, Dean.” Sam whispered, his voice almost inaudible. Dean eyed his brother, but remained silent, giving him time to think and then speak. “This is where I want to come back to. Back to this car, back to you. Always back to you, Dean.” Sam promised, and the muttered words were carried by the wind and surrounded the older man, who then understood what his brother had just said.

 

I will always come back to you. 'Then, why are you leaving?' Dean wanted to ask, but didn't. He couldn't ask Sam to stay with him, no matter how much he may have wanted to. Just like Sam couldn't ask Dean to drop everything and follow him to California. They had to go down separate ways. But they were like magnets, like flowers which rotated along with the sun. Try as they might, they could never stay far away from one another. So they knew that at the end of their road, their paths would blend together again, and they would be reunited... 

 

“Always Dean...” Sam repeated, leaning forwards, letting his hazel eyes post the very same question they had, the very first time Sam had kissed Dean. The older man held Sam's gaze for a mere second, allured by the mesmerizing color of his brother's eyes, as the evening light was getting trapped in them. Like a kaleidoscope they were shining, thin lines of green and blue were floating in an ocean of sweet hazel. “Always, Sammy...” He replied, voice but a caress. His trained hands moved, cupping both sides of Sam's face, before the green eyed man leaned forwards, covering the few millimeters which were separating his lips from Sam's. 

 

He was met with the taste of oil, beer and something he could label as pure Sam, and Dean let his lips brush over the ones of his brother's slowly, gently, like the water rocks a boat which is anchored. He got lost in that kiss, he was sure it had lasted hours, as he let his tongue idly play with Sam's, in a slow, grateful dance. When the brothers finally broke apart, Dean took a second to let his fingers rank through brown locks before returning to his side of the seat, in order to kick start the engine again. Sam remained close to Dean, refusing to move over, until they had finally returned to the motel room. 

 

 

Sweet music got Dean out of his thoughts and back to the sad, lonely present, back, to that small pathetic prison cell. He gazed across the hall and saw Stive turning up the volume of the small radio, all the while muttering “I love you” to that old photograph he was still holding in his hand. It was then, that the clock started stroking twelve, which meant that... “Happy birthday, Dean...” Dean muttered to himself, all the while, the sweet sound of piano keys been elegantly played, filled the air.

 

The green eyed man let his mind return to that summer night, when he and Sam had finally, returned to the motel room, after the long ride with the Impala. The boys went straight to the shower, not bothering to take turns in it. They just entered together and Dean let the music of the present fill in the memories of the past, as he once again found himself, not in a cell, but in the shower, with Sam's, naked, lean body pressed on his own. And as the past and the present were blended together, Dean let the memory unfold.

 

The water was running down Dean's body, taking away all the sweat and relaxing the taut muscles in the same time. Sam's long hands were doing their part too, as the younger man let them roam over the broad plain of Dean's back. “Dean...” Sam whispered, voice low, thick, promising, anticipating... “Dean...” Sam muttered again, but his words died as his soft lips met the wet flesh of his brother's shoulder. “Sammy...” Dean uttered in return, letting his own hands touch Sam's cheek, his nose, his lips.

 

 

With the softness and grace of a pianist did Sam's fingers dance over the length of Dean's spine, tipping at each vertebrae as if it was but a white piano key. Dean moaned, low and soft, feeling his blood running hot in his veins, all the while his member was starting to harden, responding to Sam's velvet-like touches, the kitten licks of his tongue, as well as, the soft nipping of his lips on his skin. “Let yourself go, Dean.” Sam instructed, his words spoken in a thick voice. The older man felt his eyes widening, but he was doomed, Sam had asked him and he could never deny him anything. He never had, he never would. 

 

 

 

So, he just relaxed, letting long fingers caress his body, from the top of his head, and all the way down, following the path of the dripping water. Dean felt Sam's hands, on his shoulders, in between his shoulder blades, and down and down they went, to the middle of his back, to his waist... And so elegant were their movements, so well thought, that Dean gasped when those hands slide downwards and shifted so that they could take hold of Dean's hipbones. “Sammy, I-” “I've got you, Dean.” Was all Sam said as his eyes caught the sight of his brother's member, which was now hard and throbbing in between his legs.

 

 

Sam however, chose to ignore it for a little while longer. There was something else he wanted to do first. Tightening his hold on Dean's hips, Sam kneelled down, following the droplets of water, letting gravity guide his body down, until his knees were leaning on the old shower' floor. Taking a moment to cast a glimpse upwards, Sam saw Dean. Saw him standing above him, saw him through the foam and the heat, through the spray and the shining water. His eyes were glassy, but there was more than lust dwelling in them. “I've missed you, Sammy...” Dean uttered, his voice small, scared even.

 

Sam's face softened at the sound of those words and his eyes filled with love and pride. Bending forwards, Sam opened his mouth, concealing Dean's now, fully erect member, careful not to touch it with his teeth. “Shit, Sammy...” Dean muttered, as his hands grabbed fistfuls of brown locks, feeling long, soft, wet curls getting tangled in between his fingers. His breath hitched as he waited for Sam to move his head, but the younger man just stayed there, breathing through his nose. “Sam, what are you doing?” Dean heard himself asking, as he moved the head of the shower to the left, so that the water wouldn't run down Sam's face. 

 

As a way of answering, Sam moved, hollowing his cheeks so that he could take Dean almost all the way in, without gagging in the meantime. And when the head of Dean's pulsing cock reached the back of Sam's throat, the younger man took in a deep breath through his nose and held it in, while staying completely still. The spit which was gathering in his mouth coated the back of Dean's member, and the older man hissed at the heat which was surrounding him. His insides were on fire, as blood overran every corner of his body, and then it all gathered up in his cock, hardening it even more. 

 

 

Dean's mind was hazed, of that he was sure. But maybe it wasn't haze, it was something else. It was this feeling of safety one can feel, when he knows he is loved, a feeling which, made an invisible weight inside Dean's chest dissolve into nothing. It was as if a vice had been clenching around his heart, around his lungs, around his very mind. He was always cautious, aware of his surroundings. He was always distant from his feelings, always a soldier, a protector. But he was never really safe and free of cares. Not even when he and Sam were in bed together. Now, however...

 

 

This was the feeling of utter and complete surrender, of utter and complete safety. Sam took in yet another breath, both his nostrils opening widely as hot, moist air entered his lungs. His inhale was followed by a deep moan as he felt the skin of Dean's cock hardening even more inside his mouth, all the while, the veins on both sides of his member pumped as they transferred more blood downwards. The deep sound Sam made, acted like a vibrator and Dean gasped as he felt drops of pre come coming out of the slit, falling right in Sam's throat. “Shit, Sam, move...” Dean pleaded in a voice which sounded strange to his own ears.

 

His tone was eerie deep, caring, yet urgent. And much like Dean, Sam was unable to deny his brother. He moved even closer, rubbing his own pulsing erection on Dean's upper leg in an attempt to find some friction for his screaming cock. Bumping his head in slow circling motions, Sam let the head of Dean's member hit the back of his throat before drawing his mouth backwards, only to repeat the motion with more speed and force. Spit was now running down his chin, mixing with pre-come and water. Dean moaned, this time loud and dirty, like a porn star, all the while his hands kept messing with brown locks. 

 

 

Sam drove his mouth even further along the length of Dean's member, feeling heavy balls meeting his chin. He didn't mind that his lips were almost numb, he kept his pace at the same level, sucking Dean in earnest, all the while moaning, lost in his own piece of heaven, as his member was rubbing off on Dean's leg. The older man felt his stomach becoming nothing but a knot and he closed his eyes, clenching his fingers around Sam's hair so hard, that the younger man yelped in pain. But, God, oh God, was it good... 

 

The pain traveled like electric current through Sam's nerves, was then deflected as a punch in his stomach, and then his cock started spasming, shooting rope after rope of come on Dean's leg as well as, on the tiles behind the older man. Suddenly, Sam was drawn out his happy place, only to be overwhelmed by an even bigger rush of ecstasy, as he felt Dean's salty cum hitting the back of his throat. His eyes rolled back in his head falling closed, as his cock spurred one more rope of come, and Sam wasn't sure how he managed to swallow the first shot of sticky cum which ran down his throat.

 

His body went numb from the pleasure, and so Sam didn't understand when Dean withdrew his member from his mouth. The world was a big ball of water, and Sam was feeling as if he was gently rocked by it. His nostrils picked up the scent of sweat, sex and cheep shampoo, but his eyes, try as they might, couldn't open up, only flicker under closed eyelids. A blow of cold air then met his face, and Sam felt his senses kicking in again. The younger man winced at the burn his knees were feeling and thus, he leaned forwards in an attempt to take the pressure off. 

 

Cold water was gently poured down his face, followed by a soft touch of calloused fingers on his cheekbones and lips. Sam leaned into the touch and smiled, nipping at those fingertips as they moved along the length of his lips. The young hunter leaned to the side, unconsciously aware of the fact that he would be whisked in a loving embrace and that he wouldn't be met with the old semi- broken tiles of the bathroom. And his subconscious was right, for what waited for him, was Dean's muscled chest, and his strong hands, which towered over him in a blink of an eye. 

 

 

Dean smiled, kissing the top of Sam's wet head. “That was a good one...” Sam mumbled, as he opened his eyes to meet shiny emerald orbs, filled with love. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Dean agreed, and only then did Sam became aware of the fact, that his brother was sitting on his heels with his back on the old tiles for support. Sam was whisked in his arms, head in between his shoulder and his neck. Their position was awkward, but intimate as well, the two of them, so close, concealed by the spray which was starting to disappear, as there was no more hot water to create it, because Dean had shut the shower off.

 

 

“You think you're okay to get back up without cracking your skull open?” The older man asked, a flick of worry passing over his face as he spoke. “Yeah, I'm good Dean.” Sam reassured, careful to mask the disappointment which was pouring out of him with every word. Once they were back on their feet, the brothers got cleaned up of all the remaining cum and dried themselves thoroughly, before exiting the bathroom. “Sammy, I meant what I said when we took off earlier today.” Dean said, voice serious, eyes fixed on shiny hazel ones. 

 

 

“I want us to make love, I want you to ride me, and I even want to try something we haven't done before.” Here, Dean paused, moving closer to his brother, letting his hands raise Sam's chin up, revealing the adorable redness which was spreading on his cheeks. The silence that followed was heavy, the unasked question hanging in the air. “Dean, you know I want this too, I need this, I...” But Sam's words died in his throat as hot lips sealed his, in a passionate kiss. “You what, Sammy?” Dean asked, eyes still on his brother's face. 

 

“Tell me what you want, baby boy...” “I want you to wake up...” Sam said all of a sudden, in a deep, raspy voice. “What?” Dean spat, quirking an eyebrow. “I said...” Sam growled, moving away from Dean's embrace, “Wake the hell up, kid!” The sharpness of those words made Dean blink and when he reopened his eyes, the room was gone, replaced with the small prison cell he had been locked in. Bolting upright on the small bed, Dean abruptly turned his head to the side, meeting, not Sam's kind face, but Stive's twisted one instead. 

 

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty. Did you sleep well?” Stive questioned, voice filled with irony. He was standing by the door of the cell, playing with a ring of keys, their jingling too loud in the overall quiet room. “No, not really, the mattress is kind of scratchy.” Dean replied, casting Stive one angry glance. “Nice one, kid. Now, you mind telling me the real reason why I caught you in the act of digging my wife's grave in the middle of the night?” The man asked, voice eerie low.

 

“I told you, the grave and more importantly, its remains, needed to be burned. My superior told you about the dangerous bacterium which the health department found there, so they sent me-” “See, I'll have to stop you right there, kid.” Stive said, as he moved closer to Dean with small, steady steps. In his eyes, Dean saw a predator, moving towards its prey. A chill ran down his spine and the green eyed hunter carefully slid the folded latter behind his back. “The old man you called earlier, when I first brought you here-” “He is an FBI agent-” Dean tried to speak, but Stive wouldn't let him. 

 

“No he isn't an agent, kid, so stop playing games. We brought you here around 11:15 and you called your so called 'superior', ten minutes later. Now, I knew there was something going on with that old man from the moment I heard him speak. And guess what. I was right.” Dean stared at Stive's darkened face all the while swallowing hard. The man Dean had called was no other than Bobby, who was back in Sioux Falls. “My colleagues managed to decrepit and find the location of the landline. Turns out, your superior answered the phone from a house in Sioux Falls.” Stive announced triumphantly.

 

“So, what's the problem?” “The problem, kid, lies in the fact that, I know every single cop who lives there and no one bears the name your friend called himself with. He's a fake you brought up to get out of this mess and nothing more.” The officer paused then, only to extend his hand, grabbing Dean by the collar of his long sleeved shirt. “So, now that you have used your one phone call and it has proven to be useless, I suggest you start talking.” Stive growled through gritted teeth. Dean however, bowed his head, fixing his eyes on the floor. This was bad, he was in big trouble and there was no one to get him out.

 

“You wouldn't believe me, sir.” Dean muttered under his breath. “Try me, kid.” Stive answered, voice calmer than before. “The stories you hear from time to time, about ghosts, vampires and all those supernatural crap... They aren't the work of fiction. They are real. And your wife, she's a ghost.” Dean explained, eyeing Stive as the last word escaped his lips. The man was standing tall, in front of Dean, who was still sitting on the crappy bed. “Four deaths have occurred in the last three weeks, in the area around the cemetery your wife is buried.” Dean continued.

 

 

“Each one of the people who were murdered by the ghost, had someone in their family, whom they had lost. So, at some point, they all visited the cemetery, to visit the graves of their loved ones. But their grief was enormous, and it soon transformed into anger. Anger, towards those people who had died, living back a broken family. Many spirits feed of that anger. I am assuming that's why your wife's ghost is so strong.” Dean murmured, his voice low, unsure.

 

 

“So, your explanation regarding the reason why you tried to burn my wife's remains is that she is a ghost that killed four people.” Stive rasped, face unreadable. “Yes. She haunts the cemetery and the only way of stopping this is by burning her remains.” Dean muttered, hoping that the man would believe him. “No, this is ridiculous-” Stive cut Dean off, but the middle Winchester kept talking.

 

 

“Look, I don't really know why you're wife is doing what she's doing, but you're next in line. And if you don't get me out of this freaking cell-” “How can you be sure that it's her?” “Because all other remains are, or have at some point, been cremated.” Dean quickly explained, trying his best not to freak out. 

 

 

“Cut the crap kid! This is the best you can come up with, as an excuse for your actions?” Stive's voice was sharp and was accompanied by the creaking of the metallic door of the cell, as the officer got out and locked Dean inside. “Hey, don't!” Dean yelled as he got up and in two large steps covered the distance, from where the bed was, until the bars of his cell. He managed to grab Stive's wrist, obliging him to turn around and face him. 

 

“Listen to me-” “My wife would never harm a fly, let alone kill some innocent person, so, I'm done listening to all this bullshit! You will stay locked up in here and when you decide that the time has come for you to tell me the truth, then, we will talk again!” Stive yelled pulling his hand away from Dean's. They maintained eye contact for a few more moments, staring silently at one another. Dean was the one who made one last try to convince Stive, that they were all in grave danger. 

 

 

 

“You said your wife would never harm a fly, but that's the point, she's no longer your wife, officer!” Dean offered, voice high pitched. Just as the officer started walking away, heading down the hall and back to his office, which was across Dean's cell, the lights started to flicker. Stive's eyes narrowed, whereas Dean's widened in horror. “What the hell...” The man muttered, his frame shivering violently, as the temperature of the room dropped drastically. 

 

Stive took a hold of his gun, but it was useless. The lights flickered again, before going out completely, as the lamps exploded one by one, casting red sparkles as they were going out. “Get me out of here Stive, or else-” But Dean's plea was short lived, as an invisible entity threw Dean on the wall of his cell with such force, that the hunter growled in pain. Freezing air swirled around the room and Dean saw his precious letter flying all around the small cell, floating elegantly, as if it was dancing. Before he could do anything however, Dean was once again thrown to the opposite side and this time, his back was met with the cold bars of the door of the cell, which cracked open under the pressure. 

 

 

Dean moaned anew, shutting his eyes tightly at the feeling of intense pain on his back. A few feet away, Stive was standing awestruck, as he was met with a heartbreaking sight. A figure, white as the walls, wearing the remains of a red dress, with long black hair was standing in front of him. Stive's body shuddered, his eyes widened and all breath left his lungs as his eyes met the lifeless, cold eyes of the figure. “Laura...” Stive whispered, dreading the sound of his own voice. 

 

 

“Don't touch it!” Dean yelled, warning Stive, who had extended his hand towards his dead wife, all the while he was fighting to get back on his feet. At the sound of his voice, the ghost of the woman turned its gaze on Dean and in less than a blink of an eye, it flew over him, throwing him out of the small cell, pinning with his back on the ground. 

 

 

 

“Kid!” Stive yelled, but his call went unheard, as the ghost hovered over Dean. “You are like them, the people at the cemetery. You feel betrayed. You feel angry...” The woman said in a thin, yet low voice. “But you shouldn't! Why can't you see, you shouldn't! It's not fair that you feel betrayed It's not fair to be angry with us!” The woman continued.

 

 

Her long hand grabbed Dean's throat and the hunter tried to scream, but the hold was too strong, making Dean unable to take in a deeper breath. His vision blurred as his body began to spasm from the lack of oxygen. “It wasn't our choice to go away, it wasn't our choice!” The woman screamed, pinning Dean even harder on the floor, all the while with a wave of her other hand, she threw Stive across the room. 

 

 

“It wasn't our choice!” The dead woman repeated, glancing at Stive, who was trying to regain his composure. “But they were all so angry... So, I send them away, to meet their dead loved ones. Maybe then, the anger would be gone...” The pale woman whispered as her free hand touched Dean's chest. “And you, you are so alone, aren't you?” She continued, gazing down at Dean, who was barely able to breathe. “You feel betrayed as well... Betrayed by someone who has left you for good...” The woman continued, as her ice-cold fingers traced a long path down Dean's chest.

 

 

 

“Well then, maybe I can help you as well.” All of a sudden, Dean screamed from the top of his lungs as sharp, intense pain spread across his chest, making his heart stop for a second and causing his vision to blur even more. His eyes looked away from the dead woman, finding the latter, which had landed a few feet away, and was laying on the cold concrete floor. “Kid!” Stive yelled, aiming his gun at Laura's head. “Don't be afraid, honey. We will be together again soon, and then you won't feel angry, or betrayed anymore, because I will be there, with you...” Laura explained, her voice eerie low. 

 

 

Laura then, pressed her hand on Dean's chest even more, making the hunter's blood, literally, freeze in his veins. Dean let out yet another animalistic scream, which echoed even louder in the small room. As he felt consciousness leaving him, Dean blinked, praying for that letter to fly in his hand, so that he could hold it one more time. So that he could hold the last thing Sam left for him in his grasp, so that he could feel Sam's elegant hand emerging from in between the words to grab his own trembling one. 

 

 

Because that letter was Sam's goodbye, it was his promise to Dean, that Sam loved him, that he would never forget him, that he would be back... It wasn't enough, but it was all Dean had been left with. The only comfort he was getting by the letter's existence, was that, every time Dean held that letter, he knew that he was holding a small piece of Sam's heart in his grasp. 

 

 

A small piece which was beating for him and him alone. 'Dean...' Sam's voice echoed in his ears, distant and raspy. No, no, he didn't want to listen to anything, he just wanted the pain to stop. 'Let yourself go, Dean...' Sam had told him when he was blowing him off in that motel's bathroom. So, he just let go. And by God, it was the easiest thing he had ever done... 

 

 

As the last traces of consciousness were fading away, Dean felt himself floating in the air. He wanted to read the letter, just one more time, so that he could have a part of Sam close to him in those agonizing moments, but then again, it wasn't really necessary. He had read the letter countless times. He knew it all by heart. So, he let his eyes flutter close and Sam's sweet voice take over his blanking mind. Underneath his closed eyelids, Dean saw his brother's face, his bright smile, his puppy dog eyes... And like that, everything went black. 

 

 

Suddenly, the door of the office was forcibly pushed open. The ghost's figure flickered above Dean, but his emerald eyes couldn't see it. A series of gunshots echoed in the small room, and a handful of silver calibers, hit the floor. But Dean couldn't hear them. A voice, a panicked, familiar voice was yelling Dean's name, as a lean, tall figure kneelled on the floor, by his seemingly lifeless body, dropping the gun it was holding. 

 

 

The figure's breath was cold on Dean's face and it smelled like a mix of cheap toothpaste, beer and salad. But Dean couldn't oblige his nostrils to work, thus he couldn't smell that scent. Long, tender hands, with fingertips sleeked by the pages of old, thick books, were caressing his face, but Dean couldn't feel them. Nor could he feel the fiery tears which were dripping down his face, dripping from a pair of sad hazel eyes... And so it was, that in the dead of the night, in a cold police station in California, Dean lay still on the floor. Stive was still leaning on the wall the ghost of his wife had thrown him on, eyes wide, face ashen...

 

As for the mysterious figure, which was hovering over Dean, shaking like a leaf in the cold wind, well... It was the figure of a young man, who had dropped everything and had took his roommate's car, driving as fast as he could, all the way from Palo Alto to Fremont, not caring about the cold wind or the rain which was hammering down upon the windshield like a whip... It was a young man who, four months ago, on Saturday, August the 23, had took off on his own, and had left a part of him behind, wrapped up in a piece of paper for Dean to find and treasure... It was a young man by the name of...

 

“Sammy...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Next chapter is the last!!! Please tell me what you think! :-)


	30. Epilogue: Finding Ithaca: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story ends... Here is the second part of the finale!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, read the notes from chapter 29!  
> I am crying right now, so...  
> Thank you all!!!  
> Off we go!!!

NOW...

Palo Alto, California,   
Tuesday, January 8th, 2002 10:20 pm

 

Sam Winchester sat on a wooden chair, shoulders hunched, face buried in three different books. His brown locks were falling, covering his sweaty forehead and his hazel eyes were tired and hazed. He was wearing a black hoodie and a pair of dark-blue jeans. The room was cozy and warm, the windows shut, blocking the cold air, which was whipping the naked branches of the trees by the road. Sam huffed frustratingly, as he let his gaze wander away from the books and linger at the window, by his desk.

 

 

Outside, the rain and the cold wind were hammering down, so the street was mostly empty. Only a handful of people, who were either too brave, or too reckless, were passing before Sam's window. The young man let his eyes flutter closed and his long hands fall to his sides. His mind was not focused on studying, it was traveling fast, finding the one thing it wanted to remember. Dean... “What's up Sam? Can't focus?” A male voice echoed from behind Sam, making the younger man jump and abruptly turn his head around.

 

“Wow, easy man, it's just me.” “Cris, I... Sorry I got lost in my head, that's all.” Sam tried to explain, but the other man raised his palm to him. “Chill, dear roommie, it's no big deal.” Cris replied, voice calm. “So, where was that mind of yours traveling?” Sam sighed bitterly, letting his eyes fall closed. “Oh, let me guess, to that brother of yours, am I right?” Sam could only nod. “I thought you wanted to get away from your family.” “I wanted to go down my own path, to live my life the way I wanted to. But my brother is a different story.” Sam explained, voice low.

 

“I get it Sam, I do.” Cris offered, but Sam knew the man had no idea what Dean meant to him. “Tomorrow, it's his birthday.” Sam muttered, more to himself, rather than his roommate. “Okay, that's cool. How about giving him a call?” Cris suggested, making Sam bite his lip. “Sam, you're sending him half of the money you get from your part-time job. You left, but you still love the guy.” “He doesn't know about the money. I'm not sending it to him, I'm sending it to my uncle, Bobby. He arranges the rest.” Sam answered, stopping himself from saying anything else. 

 

“Still, it's his birthday, Sam. Do you know what I would give to have my brother back, so that he could say 'happy birthday' to me?” Cris whispered, voice low, bitter. “Cris, I'm sorry, I never meant-” “Sam, I've told you before, it's fine. My brother is dead, but I want to talk about him, so chill out.” Sam fell silent then, as his eyes softened. “Those eyes of yours...” Cris said after a long while. “What? What about them-” Sam began to speak, but his roommate cut him off. 

 

“Whenever we talk about your brother, or even about my brother... Your eyes light up. So, I don't know what happened between you and your brother the night before you took off from Illinois to come here, but whatever it was...” “Cris I... Me and Dean we were very close. And I left without saying goodbye. I sneaked out like a thief and...” Here, Sam's voice quivered and faded, as memories flooded his mind. “You left without saying goodbye, you said. But it's always better for our loved ones to watch us walking towards them, rather than away from them.” Cris continued, offering a soft smile.

 

He then turned around, heading towards the bathroom. “Cris, thank you man.” Sam offered, his voice low, meaningful. “It's no big deal dude. I know you for four months, we live together.” Cris replied, waving his hand in a simple gesture. Just as he was about to get out of the room, Cris paused, not bothering to turn around. “Sam... Call your brother. As soon as the clock strikes twelve, call him.” The man uttered, leaving Sam alone, alone with his books and his memories...

 

 

What had happened that night... How could Sam ever speak of that night? The most sacred, the most passionate, the most beautiful night of his life? How could he narrate what had taken place between him and Dean? How could he describe the fire which had burned him, the lust which had drowned him, the feverish passion which had raised him to the stars? How could he speak of the tremendous love which he would always feel towards Dean? Oh, but he couldn't.

 

Because no mind could understand the depth of that love, the pureness of that passion. No one could ever begin to understand, what Sam meant to Dean, or what Dean meant to Sam. So, the younger man remained silent, letting the words die in his throat, and the memories come alive in his mind... Leaning back on his chair, Sam gazed the dark window, but his mind, was elsewhere... Or, to be accurate, his mind was dwelling in that summer night, back there, in that motel room in Illinois...

 

Friday, the 22th of August, 2001

In a motel room in Illinois...  
Late at night...

 

“So, now that we've gotten out of the shower without you getting your skull open, I need to say something.” Dean said, locking his gaze with Sam's. “I hear you, Dean...” Sam said, chuckling as he spoke. “Sammy, I meant what I said when we took off earlier today.” Dean whispered, voice serious, eyes fixed on shiny hazel ones. 

 

 

“I want us to make love, I want you to ride me, and I even want to try something we haven't done before.” Here, Dean paused, moving closer to his brother, letting his hands raise Sam's chin up, revealing the adorable redness which was spreading on his cheeks. The silence that followed was heavy, the unasked question hanging in the air. “Dean, you know I want this too, I need this, I...” But Sam's words died in his throat as hot lips sealed his, in a passionate kiss. “You what, Sammy?” Dean asked, eyes still on his brother's face. 

 

“Tell me what you want, baby boy...” Dean hummed, deep in his throat. “I want you to make love to me until the sun rises. But forget the prep-” “Sam, no, it's been too long-” “I want to feel you-” “You will Sammy, you will. Believe me, there is a way we can do this, that will blow your mind away.” Dean explained, eyes soft, face calm. 

 

 

“Oh, and because I know you, you don't have to oblige that encyclopedic brain of yours to find a way to ride me, I'll talk you through it.” Dean continued, his tone amused, but caring, the tone of a big brother teaching his younger sibling something for the first time. Sam relaxed and raised an eyebrow at his own reaction.

 

 

“Stop thinking, Sammy...” Dean whispered, his voice husked. Moving a few steps forwards, Dean tilted his head, meeting Sam's lips for yet another time, all the while he started manhandling him, gently pushing him backwards with his body. Sam complied, getting the hint, and let Dean's hands lock around his back, as he began taking small steps backwards, knowing that Dean would never let him fall down. Sam, eventually, hit the end of the bed, which made him pause his movements.

 

Dean however, had other plans. The older man brought his hands on the front part of Sam's body, and slowly pushed the younger man on the mattress which was waiting for them. Dean wiggled on the bed as well, his body falling atop of Sam's as if it was drawn by an invisible magnet. “God, I've missed you so much.” Dean muttered in the crook of Sam's neck. “I've missed all of you.” “D-Dean...” Sam managed to utter, shuddering at the feeling of a wet tongue sliding down his long neck. “I've missed the sounds you make when I lick you...” Dean muttered, chuckling, and Sam was left unable to answer back. Because he had missed all this too.

 

 

“I've missed feeling your body shake whenever I do this...” Dean continued, only to stop talking as he took Sam's left nipple in between his lips. A choked sound was produced in Sam's throat, as the young man felt wetness surrounding his thickening flesh and he couldn't help but yelp when Dean, ever so carefully, dragged his teeth over his nipple. Hazel eyes fell closed and the young Winchester lost track of time, his mind hazed with pleasure. “Guh, Dean, your fucking mouth...” Sam rasped as he felt Dean moving from his left nipple to the right one, working it lavishly in between his teeth.

 

“You like my mouth, don't you, Sammy?” Dean hummed, as he left a trail of wet kisses down his path from Sam's chest to his navel. “Where is it that you want this mouth, little brother?” “Dean, just... I want it on my cock...” Sam whispered under his breath, covering his eyes with his forearm. Dean smiled wickedly, breathing a hot breath on Sam's navel, making him squirm. “...Just on your cock? What a pity, and I who thought you wanted more than a blow job...” The older man joked, his mouth hot and wet on Sam's belly. Sam shuddered yet again, but removed his forearm from his eyes, fixing his gaze with Dean's.

 

“I... I want you to... lick me open...” Sam whispered, face turning redder than fire itself. Dean's smile faded for a second, as he was stunned by what his brother had just uttered. His cock stirred between his legs and Dean had to swallow a lump in his throat. “I... I want you to lick me open, to put as many fingers in me as you want, put your fist in me, Dean...” Sam breathed as he lashed his hand out, grabbing his brother by the back of his neck, bringing him only inches away from his own face. “God, Sammy, who taught you to say such things, huh?” Dean rambled, eyes darkening. 

 

 

“Dean, I want you to do those things, and then, I want to do them to you as well, I want to give you what you've given me, Dean, please...” Sam nearly begged, putting his puppy dog eyes in good use. Those sweet, round hazel orbs made Dean freeze, took his breath away. God, he was doomed, of that he was sure beyond any doubt. “Dean, please... Let me, at least try and make you feel what I feel every time you lick me open...” “Alright, fine, there is a way we can do this, if that's what you want...” Dean replied, the words spoken in haste, as lust was fighting its way through Dean's blood.

 

 

Dean eyed Sam one more time, awed that his shy little brother had just spoke so freely about having sex. “Sammy, if we do this, I'll have to-” “I trust you to do whatever you want with me Dean, just let me give you pleasure too.” Sam reassured, heart pounding in his chest. “Okay, alright, take it easy baby boy.” The older man cooed, running his fingers through Sam's hair. “You'll have to be atop of me, on your hands and knees, only you will be facing the opposite wall. Dean instructed, voice low, patient despite all the burning need which was wrecking the man's body.

 

It took them a little while, but after some mild cursing, some wiggling and some maneuvering, Dean was the one with his back on the mattress, while Sam was atop of him, facing away from his brother, on the opposite wall. Thus, Dean had access to Sam's member and entrance, while Sam could easily bow his head and give Dean one hell of a blow job, should he decide to stick with his plan. Dean took a second, allowing Sam to get used to the feeling of not seeing him, before cupping Sam's round cheeks with his palms. 

 

Sam tried to take a hold of Dean's cock, but his hands started to shake as he felt his brother blowing a cold breath on his hole, before using his wet tongue, to lick a long path along the length of Sam's lower spine, all the way to the cleft of his butt. “Shit, Dean, I...” “This isn't just me rimming you Sammy, this is supposed to take time if we take things slowly. So I'll have time to properly open you up, and you'll have time to get used to this, once again. As soon as you have, you'll be fine with doing your part.” Dean explained, as he momentarily withdrew his mouth from Sam's entrance.

 

 

Sam was once again amazed by Dean's ability to always say the right thing at the right time. Always there to guide him through every step of the way... A wave of unconditional love washed over the younger man then, taking away all his cares, all his thoughts and setting him free of all boundaries. This was Dean, and Dean loved him more than anything else. Arching his back, all the while opening his legs even more, Sam encouraged his brother to resume his task, a hint which Dean took, as he put his mouth just a few inches away from Sam's entrance, mouthing at the sensitive flesh, using every skill he had earned, in order to give Sam as much pleasure as he could.

 

Sam moaned, deep in his throat, as he felt long hands lavishing his ribcage, all the while a hot tongue was working the outer muscles of his hole open. With still trembling hands, Sam took a hold of Dean's hardening cock and bowed his head down, stopping mere inches from Dean's member. Smiling at himself, Sam lay a kiss on the head of his brother's cock, a gesture which earned him a sinful moan from Dean, which was at that point, lost in the depths of Sam's hole. Opening his mouth, Sam took Dean in for yet another time, only now he knew there was no need to hurry.

 

 

There was no need to hurry, because this wasn't their usual foreplay. This wasn't something to just make them cum. It was something deep, meaningful, sacred even. So, Sam moved his head upwards, letting Dean's cock slide out of his mouth, only to use his tongue, swirling it around the head, which blurted a couple drops of pre-come. Dean moaned again, letting his head fall back to the pillows for the first time since he had begun licking Sam open. 

 

The younger man whined at the loss, shuddering violently. “Sammy... I'm sorry, I-” “Shhh, easy Dean...” Sam replied, as he turned his head to the side, to lick Dean's cock clean of the white, thick droplets of dripping pre-come. “Do you want me to make you come?” Sam questioned, and Dean took a moment to regain his composure before answering. “No, not yet-” “Hey, remember what you always say to me. You can come whenever you feel like it, and I'll make you hard again.” Sam cooed, taking his mouth away from Dean's cock, letting it rest on Dean's right inner thigh. 

 

 

“Since when did you become the top in this relationship?” Dean questioned, chuckling. “Since my blow jobs seem to make you unable to take the lead.” Sam replied, a smile on his face. Dean however, said no more, as he once again resumed his task of licking Sam open. The first ring of muscles had started to loosen up, allowing Dean to finally be met with that bitter-sweet taste he had come to adore. Sam whimpered at the feeling of Dean's tongue reaching his inner walls, tipping at the sides, slowly and tenderly lapping them.

 

Being slightly taller than Dean- to the latter's utter annoyance- meant that, by arching his back a little more, Sam could kiss his way down Dean's leg, without moving away from Dean's tongue. The young man kept one hand at his side so as to balance himself, while with his other, he concealed Dean's cock, giving gentle strokes so as to keep him on edge. Heavy drops of pre-come soon coated his palm, but Sam kept lavishing Dean's now trembling leg. He lapped at his outer thigh, moving downwards, almost all the way to his knee.

 

That was the furthest he could reach, so he started kissing his way back up, only to moan loudly as Dean's tongue started penetrating his entrance deeper than any other time. “God, Dean, more, more, more...” Sam rasped on Dean's leg. His blood was burning him as it was running through his veins and Sam had to try hard so as to keep stroking Dean. The sound of lube being poured out of a small tube which was kept in the nightstand went unheard by Sam, but he soon felt a finger next to that devilishly skilled tongue. “Agh, Dean...” Sam yelped, tensing up briefly. 

 

At the sound of Sam's groan, Dean slightly withdrew his finger from his brother's entrance, only to give a few more kitten licks at the inner walls, savoring their heat, as well as, the way the muscles were throbbing under his tongue. This gesture gave Sam time to relax, and the younger man resumed his previous movements, those of lavishing Dean's legs with kisses and small licks. Feeling the muscles under the tip of his tongue slightly relaxing, Dean pushed his digit back inside his brother, this time all the way in, only to be met with yet another yelp. 

 

 

 

“Shh, relax for me Sam. Stop whatever you're doing for a second baby boy.” Dean uttered as he once again withdrew his finger and his tongue from the depths of Sam's hole. The young hunter groaned at the feeling of emptiness, the burn from Dean's finger already forgotten. “Dean, it's alright-” “Sammy, do it, for me.” Dean muttered, voice tight, yet sure. He growled as he, once again, buried his digit all the way to the third knuckle and felt his cock spurring yet another round of pre-come in Sam's palm. But Dean forced his mind to keep working. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't bury himself in that heat, not just yet. As expected, Sam was way too tight. 

 

 

“Sammy, baby, come on, breathe for me.” Dean urged again, and this time, the younger man complied, pausing his activities and raising his head up. “Take a breath through your nose.” Sam wanted to argue, wanted to say that this wasn't their first time together, but for some reason he found Dean's voice so soft and caring that he remained silent. Inhaling through his nose, Sam felt his muscles relaxing and the slight burn ebbing away. “Good, that's good Sammy, now, one more time, baby.” Again, Sam couldn't bring himself to disobey, so he took in, yet another, deeper breath.

 

 

Dean's free hand caressed Sam's ribcage, all the while providing the necessary support for the young man. “God, Sammy you're tighter than the first time we did this.” Dean noted, slowly moving his finger in and out of his brother's entrance. “Yeah, because back then you had been fingering me every night for a month, before fucking me on the floor of Bobby's living room.” Sam replied as he started licking Dean's other leg, all the while feeling his muscles starting to relax. Dean's finger worked its way in and out Sam's channel repeatedly, sending shivers of pleasure down Sam's spine.

 

 

The procedure continued for a long time, how long however, none of the brothers could tell. Time was but a word, holding no real meaning for them. They could feel their blood boiling in their veins, but the fire wasn't caused by sheer, naked need, or lust. It was a result of the love they were feeling for one another, a love which ran deep, so deep inside them, that it could never be erased. 

 

“Dean... God, more, more...” Sam yelled as he felt two of his brother's gun callused fingers getting deeper and deeper by the second. “Your wish is my command.” Dean replied as he poured yet another generous amount of lube on his fingers. A third finger soon joined the other two and Dean could swear that Sam's hole was drawing his digits inside, clenching around them desperately. He began scissoring them, setting up a quickening pace. Sam gasped and grabbed Dean's knees with his palms, hard enough so that marks would be left on them. 

 

 

Bowing his head down, Sam took Dean's licking member in his mouth fast, so fast that the older man didn't have the time to moan at the lose of Sam's palm, which had been coating his cock, up to that point. Deep shudders were wrecking both their bodies, but neither of the brothers paused for breath. Breathing wasn't that important, not really. Dean added a fourth finger inside his brother, which the younger man accepted eagerly, pushing himself back, on Dean's digits. 

 

 

“God, Sammy, so good for me, taking four of my fingers, four of them...” Dean praised, awed, his voice hoarse from growling and whimpering as his cock was surrounded by a hot, sinful mouth. Sam's thrusts were slow, and they were matching Dean's pace, but try as he might, Dean couldn't recall a time during which Sam's thrusts had been deeper. The head of Dean's cock blurted more pre-come and Sam moaned at the salty taste which hit the back of his throat. The older man gasped and returned to his own task, that of slowly moving his fingers inside of Sam. 

 

 

Dean's darkened, hazed eyes were fixed on the way Sam's hole was clenching around his digits and even though he wasn't sure Sam could take it, he ever so slowly, rubbed the tip of his thumb on that beautiful hole, not pushing it in however. Sam moaned anew, deep and low in his throat. “Can you take it, baby boy?” Dean questioned, voice but a mere, hoarse whisper. Sam was lost in a sea of pleasure and had lost count of how many fingers his brother had gotten in him. 

 

 

He just wanted more, no, he needed more, so he breathed through his nose and used his right hand to form the letters 'ys' on Dean's knee. Emerald eyes flew open then and Dean felt such pride and love for his brother that he was sure he could drown in them. “You're going to be the death of me Sam...” The older man muttered to himself. 

 

Ever so slowly, Dean let his thumb pat the outer muscle of Sam's entrance, before letting it slide inside, just up to the first knuckle. Sam's frame was wracked by a shudder which shook it to its core and he felt his heart missing several beats, only to stumble on itself a few seconds later with such force, that Sam thought it could rip his chest apart and fly all the way to Dean. “Shit, my God, Sammy, tell me you're not hurt, God, tell me I can move-” But Dean's delirious, raspy words were cut short as Sam moved backwards, slowly, yet eagerly, letting his mouth slid out from Dean's member a little.

 

They didn't know which one moaned first, but for the next few minutes, the room was filled with mixed moans, breathy sighs, as well as the splashing of flesh meeting flesh as Dean scissored all of his five fingers inside of Sam, tipping and lapping at the inner walls. And Sam... Well, to say that what he was feeling was awesome, would be an understatement. His mind was blank, a shadow of itself, overwhelmed by a myriad of raw emotions. His heart was beating erratically under the burden of adrenaline and ecstasy and through his hazed mind, Sam paused a second, awed by the sheer rawness of his feelings.

 

 

He had been away from Dean for far too long, he could restrain himself no longer. He wanted to be Dean's, to let him claim him. He wanted to let Dean penetrate him until he could feel that long, thick cock touching the center of his very soul. As those thoughts swirled around his barely functional, ravaged brain, Sam's cock stirred, blurting out a huge amount of pre come. Dean used his free hand to gather the thick, white droplets as they landed on his neck and chin.

 

 

He brought his stained fingers to his mouth, sucking them hard, wanting to taste every molecule. Sam groaned loudly as the older man pushed his fingers barely an inch further in Sam's entrance. He couldn't bare to take this anymore, he had reached his limits. Apparently, however, so had Dean, who yelled at his brother to pull his mouth out, or else he would cum all over it. Sam obeyed, withdrawing his mouth from Dean's cock, just as Dean took his fingers out of Sam's, now loosed entrance. 

 

 

Sam heard himself moaning as cold air met his hole, but Dean was fast on comforting him. “Sammy, shh, hey, you good?” “Dean, I want to ride you-” Sam began to say as he changed his position, wiggling his way on the bed, so he was still on his knees, in between Dean's legs, but now he was facing his brother. “Sammy, easy baby, take it easy-” “Dean, I'm fine, I've never been better-” “You just took five of my fingers, Sam.” Dean stated, his voice filled with awe, lust and adoration. “W-What? I thought they were four...” Sam muttered, face flushing bright red. “God, I love it, love the way you lose your mind when you're with me...” Dean said, as he held Sam near him, crushing their lips together.

 

The kiss was ravenous, and both brothers could taste one another as they kissed, a sensation which made the hairs on Sam's hands raise even more. The sound of air getting trapped, as lips closed around flesh and as tongues were crushed to one another, filled the small motel room. Saliva along with remains of pre-come got mixed up, as the kissed went on and on. Dean moved away, only when the burn in his lungs became unbearable. “I want you to ride me too, Sammy.” Dean said and locked his eyes with Sam's. As a way of answering, the young man let his lips form a smile, which was brighter than the sun itself.

 

 

“Okay, move backwards Sam.” Dean instructed and Sam complied. When the older man had closed his legs, Sam wordlessly moved closer again, climbing atop of his brother, opening his legs as much as possible. His knees, which were touching the mattress were aching, but Sam kept quiet about it. “Umm, Dean, I... I don't...” A sweet smile was all Sam got as a response. Dean moved wet brown locks from Sam's temple with his palm before speaking again. “I told you I'd talk you through it. You're doing fine, okay?” Dean praised, his voice softening. 

 

Sam nodded, taking in a calming breath. “Okay. Now, take the lube and coat my cock with it.” Dean said, handing his brother the small tube. Once Sam was done, Dean spoke again. “Good, now, take me in your hand, so that you'll line yourself up properly.” Dean continued, placing both of his hands on Sam's middle to provide the necessary stability. Sam swallowed hard, his hand shaking. As the tip of Dean's cock touched Sam's hole, both men shuddered. The head of Dean's cock slid in and Sam bit his lip, his hand on Dean's member shaking even more. “Hey, it's alright, you're doing great baby, now, lower your body down, slowly, okay?” Dean rasped through clenched teeth.

 

Sam did as he was told, but instead of going slow, he took Dean in, in one long thrust, which made him yelp and whine at the burn his muscles were feeling. “Sammy, shit, hey, hey, not so fast baby boy.” Dean moaned, only his moan, was one caused by pleasure. 'Sam, Sammy, breathe, come on now, breathe and look at me.” Fighting the tension he was feeling, Sam forced his eyes to open. “I'm sorry, I messed up, I'm sorry-” “Shh, no, no Sammy, you're doing good baby, it's great Sam, I swear to you, it feels great...” Dean mumbled, as his hands worked their way up and down Sam's ribcage and back, so as to help him relax. 

 

Sam remained sat on Dean's lap for a few seconds, during which his ragged, shallow breaths were echoing in the small room. With trembling hands Sam touched Dean's broad chest, locking his hazel eyes with shiny emerald ones. “I love you...” The young man uttered under his breath as he began to move upwards along the length of Dean's cock. “So do I, baby boy, so do I.” Dean replied, voice wavering, body writhing as his eyes beheld Sam moving gracefully above him.

 

“Go all the way up baby, up until- shit...” Dean swore as Sam drew his body upwards until only the head of Dean's cock remained in him. Then, he slowly moved back down, moaning at the easiness with which his muscles relaxed around Dean. But he shouldn't be so surprised, after all, Dean had spent an awful amount of time preparing him. Sam knew however, that even without the prep Dean's cock would fit in him, like a key fits in a keyhole. After all, for all Sam knew, they were built for one another. 

 

 

“Dean, shit, it's awesome...” Sam mumbled as he gave one more thrust. And Dean could only watch, with eyes hungry and darkened, as Sam arched his back, his figure dominant over Dean's, a solid body with broad shoulders, with a well build chest, with long, tender hands... Sam's body, which came crashing down on Dean's cock time after time, as if there was no tomorrow. Oh, but what an irony. There really was no tomorrow for them, was there?

 

 

“Fuck, fuck, Dean...” Sam cursed as he felt gravity pulling him towards Dean like the earth pulls inanimate objects to the ground. Each thrust was deeper than the last, and Sam could only yelp and writhe as his prostate was constantly hit by the head of Dean's cock. “Sammy, God, look at you, just look at you...” He rasped, voice hoarse with raw need. His eyes were fixed on Sam's flushed face. Fixed on his hazel eyes, which had fallen closed, fixed on the tiny droplets of salty water, which were hooked at the edges of his long eyelids, fixed on his jaw, which was now ajar, fixed on his long hair and the way they were covering his temple. 

 

 

With the next, almost brutal thrust, Sam impaled his hole on Dean's throbbing cock, making his brother yell something incoherent. Dean's hands withdrew from Sam's waist, only to come around his furiously leaking cock. His right hand coated the part from the base, all the way up to the middle of Sam's cock, while his left hand covered what was left of it, along with the head. The pre-come eased Dean's task of jerking Sam off, and the warmth of his palms made Sam scream his brother's name as he kept riding him.

 

“Dean, Dean, Dean, move your hands, as if- Oh holy fucking Hell, Dean...!” Sam yelped as his cock was coated from base to tip. To him, it felt as if Dean was inside him, while he was inside Dean at the same time. “More, Dean!” Sam demanded in a haze of adrenaline, and Dean complied, using both his hands, giving strong, fast pulls and strokes, making sure that the head of Sam's cock was met with the center of his palm, so as to further stimulate Sam's nerves. Sam, in turn, got almost all the way out, before slamming back in, hard, fast and needy. Dirty even.

 

Moans and incoherent words escaped their lips, breathy sighs and loud yells, short, uneven gasps and almost, filthy whines. Those sounds engulfed them as their fleshes kept crashing on one another, time and time again. It looked like those two bodies were trying to break the laws of physics and intervene with one another, become one. “Dean, shit, I'm close, so close...” Sam managed to warn, and Dean found himself overwhelmed by a wave of sadness, for he didn't want it to end. But it did, it ended with an explosion, which blew both the brothers away. “Look at me, Sam, I want to see you when you fall apart.” Dean commanded, and Sam obeyed.

 

As their eyes locked, Sam gave one more thrust, Dean gave one more strore, and that was it. Sam was the one who lost it first, as he almost screamed Dean's name while his cock shot endless ropes of cum on Dean's palms. The older man fixed his eyes on Sam's face, saw the muscles twitch from the force of it all, saw tears trickling down those beautiful cheeks. The sight was breathtaking, making Dean's own eyes sting with tears.

 

 

And the next second, he felt Sam's inner muscles closing in around his cock, as if they wanted to keep it buried inside that tight heat. Needless to say, it was all it took for Dean's orgasm to come crashing down on him like a tone of bricks. The force of it was immense and the green eyed man heard himself yelling Sam's name as he came and came, shooting gallons of his load inside Sam, filling him up to the point where Sam was sure Dean's seed would be mixed with his blood, to the point where he could taste the white liquor on the tip of his tongue. 

 

Dizziness then engulfed Sam, along with a long desired bliss, and if it wasn't for Dean's fast reflexes, he would have fallen backwards. Thankfully, despite the mind blowing force of his own orgasm, Dean saw the telltale second during which Sam's eyes rolled back in his head, thus, he managed to grab Sam by the waist and lower him down, so that they would be touching chest to chest. His hands were still coated with Sam's cum and the older man could feel his brother's cock spurting shorter ropes of cum, which were now, running down Dean's leg. “Sammy, you good baby?” He managed to ask, noticing that his cock was still buried inside his brother, and was still throbbing intensely. 

 

A low muzzle was all he received for an answer, but he smiled, brushing Sam's hair away from his forehead. They stayed like that, tangled up together for a long time, with the hot, dry summer breeze, which was coming in the room from the crack on the window, caressing their bodies. “Love you, D'n...” Sam mumbled after a while, during which Dean had withdrew his member from Sam's entrance and had rearranged their positions on the bed, so that Sam was safely held in Dean's embrace. All thoughts of getting up and going to the bathroom to bring a wet washcloth were, by that point, abandoned by Dean. Sam was asleep next to him and waking him up was not an option.

 

 

The silence which then fell in the room was heavy, and for Dean, it was a torment. Sam's slowing heartbeat as well as the puffing sound of his breaths surrounded the older man, who at that point begun to understand how lonely he was about to be, when Sam would be gone. Biting his bottom lip, Dean held his brother even closer, letting the gentle whistling of the summer breeze carry away the barely audible sobs, which no one ever heard, save the man whose body they were wracking. 

 

 

And Dean cried and cried, rivers of salty tears falling down on brown locks. He cried, because Sam was about to go away, because as the new day would arise, he would have to let Sam go, he would have to say goodbye to the one and only person he had ever loved. So yes, Dean cried. Cried, because he adored Sam, because he wanted to see him fly away from this hellish life, and yet, now that the time had come, he couldn't bare to watch him walking away. He couldn't bare the thought of saying goodbye...  
And so, Dean cried. Cried until the early hours of the day, when his eyes finally fell closed, red-rimmed and tired.

 

Little did Dean know back then, but as it would turn out, he would never get to say goodbye to Sam. Just as Dean let his body surrender to numbness, Sam's body stirred, coming out of a hazed, deep sleep. The sun was still fighting to tear apart the veils of the night sky, so an icy blue hue was the color the sky had, when Sam looked outside the window. Returning his gaze on Dean's sleeping figure, the young man kissed the top of his brother's head before silently getting up and out of bed.

 

Taking a shower was out of the question, thus Sam wet a towel with hot water and rubbed all the remains of sweat and cum off of his body. His legs were slightly trembling as he walked, but the burn was welcomed, as it signified the importance of what had taken place the night before. Once he was cleaned up, Sam exited the bathroom and kneeled over his duffle, to find clean clothes to put on. He never knew he could get dressed so fast and without making a sound. By the time he was done, the sun had started to dye the morning sky with a scarlet hue.

 

Sam walked slowly around the bed, careful not to step on the cracking wood, so that he wouldn't wake Dean up. He extended his hand, grabbing the piece of Dean's torn shirt, wrapping it, for yet another time, around his wrist. It settled, concealing the flesh, like Dean's hands did when, they were taking a hold of Sam's hand. The young hunter felt his eyes sting and a part of him screamed that he should wake Dean up. But it was easier if he were to just creep out of the room in silence. Goodbyes were hard, and Sam knew that this particular farewell, would be an impossible one.

 

 

Yes, it would be better if he was to just go away. It would be safer, easier, less painful... After all, goodbyes symbolized a permanent parting of ways. But Sam was certain, deep in his heart, that this wasn't the end. No, because they had made a promise, back there in the Impala. Always, they had promised. Always, but not forever. Because forever... Forever doesn't exist, not as we think of it. Forever hides within small moments, which will get lost in the never-ending ticking of the clock.

 

 

Forever exists, because men want it to. Because they want a moment to never come to an end, for they have found safety, tranquility, peace, love and acceptance, because they have found someone to love them, to care for them, because they have found something they don't want to let go, something they were missing, something worth fighting for, something worth living for. Because they have finally, found themselves... So, during those moments, they promise that they will make them last forever. 

 

 

And Sam knew, as he was zipping up his duffle, that he had already lived his fare share of such moments. There were all moments he would treasure, moments he had spent with Dean. But in order to promise forever to the man you love, you have to find yourself first. So, as Sam looked around the room one last time, he knew why he was going away. He wasn't leaving just for the sake of getting away from John and the hunting life. He was embarking on a journey, to find himself. 

 

He wanted to meet new people, to see and hear new things, to learn more about what this sad, yet astonishing world, had to offer. He wanted to make his own life, to follow his own path. A path which he knew, would sooner or later, blend with Dean's. And then, when they would meet again, Sam was sure, that he would finally, be able to promise him forever. With those thoughts in his head, Sam grabbed a piece of paper and an old pencil, which he found on the table and sat on the lone chair the small room had. 

 

 

Soon, the nose of the pencil started scrapping against thick white paper, as Sam used his words and all their magnanimity, to say to Dean all those things he could not show him... And thus, Sam started writing, and one could say that the pencil was dipped in Sam's very soul, that the words were coming from the depths of his very own, beating heart... And the letter, a letter Dean would treasure from that moment on, said... 

 

My dear Dean, 

 

I know you will be pissed at me for leaving without waking you up to say goodbye, but, well, you made the rules. 'No chick-flick moments, right? God, this is harder than I thought it would be... So hard, Dean... You always said that I knew my way around words, but, as it turns out, I can barely put my thoughts in order. 

 

I know that for you, actions make the difference, but right now, all I can do, is master the right words and try to say what I need to. Try and convey all my love for you in those words, so that you can keep it with you... I don't know if I will manage to do that, but Dean, I'll try. So please, before you start breaking down every piece of furniture in the room , or before you storm out of the room in an attempt to catch up with me, read this until the end. 

And here we go...

 

Dean, I want you to know that, no matter what happens, we will always be brothers. I need you to understand that, I may be taking off, I may be running away from a life mom would have never wanted for us, but this doesn't mean I am running away from you. I am chasing a little slice of normal, all the while I am chased by hellish flames, and monsters that crawl out of the darkest corners. 

 

I am trying to run away from all this, but by no means, am I running away from you. That is something I can't do, a piece of me is left there with you and you know it, you have to have understand it by now, that no matter where I go, no matter what paths I follow, I will always come back to you. 

 

I am not saying you should wait for me Dean. You shouldn't wait for me, not because I won't come back, but because you should have a life, your own life, a life you want, not a life dad wants for you. A good life, well, as good as our lives can be. 

 

You deserve it, Dean. You have more than earned it. And I want you to have it. I want you to love, laugh, make friends, live in the light of day, not in the shadows of the night. But I know this can't happen, not while you keep living the way we do. If you want to stay, I have no right to tell you otherwise. It's your life, after all. 

 

I don't want to leave you behind with dad Dean, but I can't make you come with me either. So, here is what I can do. I can say that, if you ever, and I mean ever, feel the need to leave, you know where to find me. My door will always be open for you Dean. I will send you my address as soon as I get settled and my phone number. Oh, and Dean, I meant what I said to dad. If I ever learn you're in trouble, I'll drop everything and come to you. 

 

Dean, I... I won't lie, not to you, never to you. Never again, that is... I want to leave, make a life of my own. I want to follow a brighter path, to make that journey and learn more, through the ups and downs of life. I want to try and have a normal, safe life. But I know what lies at the end of my road. What lies at the end of my journey, is the one place I want to be in. I want to be in the Impala, right on shotgun, with you on the steering wheel and classic rock in the background.

 

I want to be where you will be, Dean. Because I have loved you so much. Because I love you and I will love you, no matter what. And yeah, here is the 'cliché' line you knew was coming... But it's true. I love you more than I can tell Dean, and I hope that you know it. I hope that you understood it last night. Or even better, that you have known it from the first time we made love, there, in Bobby's living room, on the floor, with the flames dazzling in the fireplace.

 

It's weird, how time marches on, moving on relentlessly. Think of how much time has passed since that night when we first made love... You would think you have time to say all the things you want to, but instead, you end up writing down a pathetic summary, relying on simple words to do the job your actions should. 

 

My actions and my choices were not the right ones, but I think that, in time, I will learn to live with the weight of those choices. I have no more time, because I lost too much of it by making the Deal with dad. A Deal you forgave me for making, because you're you, a Deal I will never forgive myself for making, because I am not you. I can't, be you. 

 

I can't be dad's soldier, I can't be the savior of the world, the avenger for those who were lost valiantly, yet so unfairly, like mom was. I am not that brave. And that's because you were always there, the brave one, the strong one, the savior.  
My savior, my brother, my best friend, my... My everything, Dean. 

 

I love all of you more than any person should ever love another. In ways that I think no other being does, and I know you do too, and frankly, that's why I am leaving. Because I know that you're backing me up, like you've always done. Now, for that, I can find no words which could suffice how grateful I am... 

 

Dean, there are so much more I want to say, but there is no time for me to write all those things down. I have to catch up the bus in time. I promise I'll call, or I'll let Bobby know I've made it to California safely, so that he can let you know without provoking dad.

Please, promise me you will be careful...  
Be safe Dean,  
Always Yours,  
Sam

 

Sam's hazel eyes stayed on the letter for yet another heartbeat, before the young hunter got up from his chair. His eyes watered as he passed his duffle over his shoulder, letting it settle in its usual place. Taking his Swiss knife out of his back pocket, Sam placed atop of the thin paper, so that there was no chance of it falling down on the floor by the gentle breeze. Eyeing Dean for a few more moments, Sam allowed the imaged of his brother's figure to get carved in the depths of his mind.

 

Lying there, spent, was Dean, whose body and face were bathed in the early morning light. Sam's heart fluttered in his chest at the sight. Dean was looking younger, peaceful, lost in his dreamless sleep. Totally unaware of the fact that, Sam was standing by the door, ready to leave. But it was better this way... “I love you, Dean...” Sam whispered and then turned around, walking out of the room, closing the door behind him. And his path was lying on his feet, waiting for him to follow it. And Sam, did.

 

Palo Alto, California,  
Tuesday, January 8th, 11:55 pm

 

The ringing of his mobile phone was what got Sam out of his thoughts and back to the present. “Dude, pick it up already!” Cris complained, as he watched Sam turning his books upside down so as to find the small cell phone. He finally found it, under one of his Anthropology books. “Yeah?” Sam rasped, gasping for breath. “Sam, son, it's me-” “Bobby?” Sam said, smiling widely. “How are you doing, son?” Bobby asked, but Sam could hear the strain in his voice from the other end of the line.

 

“I'm fine Bobby, I'm doing good.” Sam replied, the happiness in his voice melting away. “Good, that's good Sam, um-” “Bobby, you would never call me this late, unless there was something going on.” Sam cut the older man off. When all he got from the other end of the line was silence, Sam's heart sank, and all color left his face. “What is it, what's going on Bobby?” Sam demanded, yet his voice quivered in fear. “Sam... I wouldn't call you, but I had no other choice, you're the only one who is close and can actually do something.” Bobby explained, voice heavy.

 

 

“Bobby, what is it, are you in trouble?” “No, no son, me and your dad, we're in Sioux Falls. And before you ask, the answer is no. John doesn't know I'm calling you.” At the sound of those words, Sam felt his knees shaking. Sam shot a desperate look across the room, to Cris, who rushed to his side. “Where is he, Bobby? Is he hurt?” Sam managed to ask, his breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. From the other end of the line, Bobby sighed. 

 

 

“Dean was working solo, on a ghost hunt in Fremont, California. He's in big trouble, Sam. The cops got him before he could burn the remains and took him to the police station.” Bobby explained, adding more details and at the same time, Sam grabbed his duffle, well aware of the fact that, his gun was still somewhere in there. “Didn't he call you?” Sam spat, gasping for breath, for he was moving too fast inside the room. “He did, but the cop who was there with him, saw right through the trick.” Bobby replied, hearing Sam's gasp from the other end of the line. 

 

“I'm on my way Bobby.” Sam said, barely registering what Bobby told him next. Hanging up the phone, Sam eyed Cris. “What do you need, Sam?” Asked the other man and Sam wasted no time in formalities. “I need your car. And I'm gonna push the engine.” The young hunter replied, as he passed his duffle over his shoulder. The keys were thrown at him in less than a blink of an eye, landing in Sam's grasp. “Thanks-” “Be careful, Sam.” Cris rasped. “Hey, Sam, put your coat on! Sam!” Cris yelled, but his cries were met with the wooden door, as Sam was already out of sight.

 

 

Sam never knew he could drive so fast. The rain was hammering down his windshield, making it almost impossible to make out the road which was ahead. Yet, Sam managed to reach the cemetery and find the opened grave. Thankfully, Dean had poured gasoline all over it, so despite the rain, Sam's lighter was enough, to put the remains on fire. Reclaiming his seat in the car, Sam chose to ignore the violent shivers which were running down his spine, as well as, the feeling of cold water dripping down on his face and body.

 

 

He just turned the key, bringing the engine to life, pressing the gas pedal all the way down. The tires screeched, but eventually, the car obeyed to Sam's wishes and he made it to the police station in less than fifteen minutes. Loading his gun with silver bullets, the young man entered the main office. Three men were lying on the floor, unconscious, but alive. Sam however, could waste no time on them, for a loud, agonizing scream tore the night in half. Sam's heart stopped beating, as the sound froze his blood. The scream was unmistakably Dean's... 

 

Sam's mind blanked for a second and then he felt a wave of fear and adrenaline coming crashing down on him. His body moved on its own accord and Sam found himself kicking in the door and shooting at the ghostly figure, which had pinned Dean on the floor. The ghost dissolved into thin specks of dust, but if it was still there, this could mean only one thing. It was bound to something else, which still needed to be burned.

 

Yet, all those facts were lingering in the back of Sam's mind, for they were minor details. They didn't really matter, no what mattered was the fact that Dean was lying still on the cold floor, his eyes closed, his chest unmoving. Sam's eyes watered, as the joy of seeing his brother again was brutally shattered to pieces by the heartbreaking, terrifying image his eyes beheld. No, this wasn't right... This couldn't be.

 

 

“Dean!” Sam yelled, kneeling beside him, letting his cold, wet hands hover over his face. “Dean...” Sam uttered again, this time however, it was but a mere whisper, filled with fear.“Dean, come on, it's me, Dean, please...” Sam nearly begged, as his cold, long fingers caressed an equally cold face. 

 

 

“What did the ghost do to him?” Sam rasped, abruptly turning his head towards Stive, who had finally gotten back on his feet. “She, um, she touched his chest and-” “No, no, no, Dean, wake up, come on!” Sam rasped, yet it was but a weak plea. He clenched his fingers into fists and hit Dean's chest, fast and hard. “Come on! Come on, you freaking jerk, come on!” Every word was followed by a strong, yet shaky hit on the center of Dean's lean chest, until finally, Sam felt it moving under his, now bruised knuckles.

 

 

The sound of Dean's ragged inhales filled the room as the green eyed man bolted upright, moaning loudly in pain. Sam took his brother's face in his hands instinctively, all the while chanting his name like a prayer. Dean's shaky hands tried to push him away, but Sam kept calling his brother's name, in an attempt to bring him back to the present. “No, don't, get away-” “Dean, hey, hey, stop fighting me, Dean, stop, it's me, Dean, it's me!” Sam spat, time and time again, until finally, his words broke through the haze of Dean's mind.

 

His green eyes focused on the figure before him, and Dean had to blink several times in order for his brain to register the fact that the one who was kneeling before him, was no other than... “Sammy?” Dean uttered, yet no audible sound escaped his dry lips. Dean's breath quickened, and a wave of anger overran his entire body. He was so angry, so fucking angry with Sam. Sam, who had left him in that motel room, Sam, who had called but once, during a period of four months, Sam, who never said goodbye, Sam...

 

Sam, who was kneeling in front of him, shaking and wet to the bone, Sam, who seemed to be wearing nothing but a hoodie and a pair of jeans, Sam, whose hazel eyes were glassy, filled with tears, whose hands were hooked on Dean's shirt for dear life, Sam, Sam, Sam... His Sammy... Hazel met emerald, and all anger melted away, leaving Dean empty and shocked, leaving him awestruck and oh, so very happy... Because Sam was there...

 

Dean swallowed hard, unable to hold back a small smile. Sam just stared at him, tears still running down his face. Their reunion was short lived however, as Laura reappeared in the room, throwing Dean on the opposite wall once again. “Dean!” Sam cried out and ran towards him. “It wasn't fair! We didn't mean to make you angry! We didn't choose to leave you!” Laura screamed again, turning her gaze on Stive. “We know you didn't mean for this to happen!” Sam stepped in, positioning himself in front of Dean, who was on the floor.

 

“It's not fair, they shouldn't hate us-” “No, it's not fair.” Sam replied voice calm. “That's what you've been trying to say to all those people who visited the cemetery, isn't it?” He questioned, taking a step towards Laura, trying to keep her attention on her, instead of Dean. “You've been trying to tell them that, they shouldn't feel angry, or betrayed by those who have died. Because even in death, they still love the people they left behind. Even if they're not there. Just like you. You still love him, don't you?” Sam muttered, eyeing Stive.

 

 

“Yes... Even if I'm not with him, I still love him...” Laura replied, her ghostly figure flickering. “But he was angry, and so were the people at the cemetery...” The ragged woman muttered, unaware of Dean, who had somehow managed to walk to Stive's office, and find the picture the man had been holding. It was a picture of Laura. “They feel angry because they're robbed of their loved ones...” Sam whispered, lowering his eyes. “But that doesn't mean that those who are left behind don't love those who have left. They love them more than they can manage.” Dean said, cutting his brother off.

 

Dean handed Stive the picture and his lighter. “Burn it. This way, your wife shall find peace.” Stive lit the lighter and Laura floated closer to him. The small flickering flame lit up their faces, making Laura's icy skin shine. “I just wanted to tell you that I still love you...” “I know Laura, I know...” Stive said, in a low voice. “Good...” The raggedy woman replied as her frame was engulfed in flames and dissolved into nothing. The smile on her face, was one only Stive ever saw.

 

Once the panic had subsided, and the officers were back on their feet, Stive eyed Sam. “Who are you, kid?” He questioned, voice low. “Me?” Sam rasped. “I'm... I'm his lawyer, sir.” Sam stated, dragging his eyes to Dean, who was barely holding himself upright. “Huh, that's interesting...” Stive replied, as he picked up his things. “Then you'll sign his release papers. It was my mistake to bring the agent here.” Stive muttered, smiling softly. Sam returned the smile as he signed the papers. “Whatever he brought in, he takes out with him.” Sam added, as he saw Dean picking up his gun from the box they had placed it.

 

 

Dean held Sam's gaze for a mere second then, before walking to the cell so as to pick the letter up from the floor. “You're free to go, both of you.” Stive said apologetically. “Hey, if you ever need help with anything, um... weird...” Dean managed to say, through gritted teeth. “You can call me.” He continued, handing Stive a small piece of paper, with his phone number on it. “Thanks... Kid.” Stive replied, smiling at the brothers, who then walked out of the police station.

 

The rain had thankfully stopped, but cold air made both of the brothers shiver violently. Sam eyed Dean from the corner of his eye, and could see that he was badly hurt. “Dean-” “Why are you here, Sam? Who told you about the ghost? And why-” “Dean, please-” “Please, what? You want a 'thank you?' Well, thank you for the rescue, prince Charming.” “Dean, just let me say one thing-” Oh, yeah, you want to ask me to not be mad at you leaving the way you did, without saying goodbye-” “Please let me-” “Please 'let me say goodbye this time?' Well, go on, say it-” “Happy birthday.” Sam rasped, his eyes fixed on Dean's frowned face.

 

Silence then fell all around the boys, who were now standing in front of Cris' car. “What-” “Dean... Happy birthday.” Sam whispered, his lips forming a smile. Dean remained still, frozen on the spot, eyeing Sam as if he had told him he would go to the moon. Swallowing hard, Dean fought to hold back the shivers as well as, the tears which had welled up in his eyes. “Thanks...” Was all he could answer. “You're not wearing a coat.” He added, anything to keep himself together. “I... Bobby called me and I came here as fast as I could. Didn't bother with a coat.” Sam explained, voice low.

 

“You dropped everything-” “I told you Dean, I told you that I would come if you ever needed me.” Sam stated, but no sooner had the last word escaped his lips than Dean hissed in pain and stumbled on his own feet. “Dean!” Sam rasped, leaning forwards to catch his brother in time. “Dean, talk to me! Dean!” Sam urged, eyeing his brother's pained face as well as, his half-closed eyes. “'M fine... Sammy...” The older man mumbled, but Sam only heard the muttered plea of his own name. Dean could hear Sam's panicked voice and wanted to calm him down, but he once again surrendered to numbness, as his body collapsed on itself.

 

 

When Dean's green eyes fluttered open again, they were met with a white ceiling. It took him a while, but eventually, Dean managed to take a look at his surroundings. He was whisked under warm covers and he was lying on a soft mattress. His head was gently placed on two large pillows and he could feel a pair of cotton boxer briefs around his waist. He could also tell that his shoes had been removed, as Dean's toes moved freely under the covers.

 

 

The room was warm and dimly lit. The blind on the window was lowered down, but no rays of sun seemed to shade it, thus Dean came to the conclusion, that dawn was yet to come. Casting his gaze to his right, Dean caught a glimpse of the nightstand. On it, a clock, which was saying 5:53 am. Great, just great, he would be late, he had to get up and- All thoughts faded away however, as he turned his head to his left. 

 

 

Because to the left side of the bed, was a rather large chair... And on that chair sat Sam, his frame hunched, furled almost in half. Dean's eyes flew open as flashes of what had taken place came back to him. Sam had saved him at the last minute and judging by the dark circles under his closed eyes, he was the one who had brought him to this house... Swallowing, Dean let his eyes wander around the room yet again. At Sam's feet, he saw a bowl with water, which was dyed red, by various used gauzes and bandages, which were floating on the top. 

 

 

A 'first-aid' kit was next to the bowl and Dean flinched at the feeling of rather rough bandages, which he could now feel wrapped around his ribcage. Letting his gaze travel back up, Dean observed his brother. He was wearing no shoes, and he had changed his clothes. He was wearing a more comfortable pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. A washcloth lay on his lap and his hair was covering his temple, as well as, his closed eyes. 

 

 

 

Dean tried to move, but it proved to be a bad idea, for his ribs were killing him and his back was in no better shape. “Shit, shit!” Dean spat, making Sam's eyes fly open. “Dean!” He rasped, nearly tripping on his own feet. He kneeled next to the bed and held Dean in place. “Easy, easy...” He cooed, his touch gentle, his eyes tired, red rimmed, yet loving. “What happened?” Dean asked, voice hoarse. “You've got three cracked ribs and your back is one massive blue bruise.” Sam explained, grabbing a bottle of water, which was also laying at Sam's feet.

 

 

“I can drink freaking water-” “No, you can't.” Sam huffed. “Look... Sam, thank you for all this, but I'll have to get going-” “I know I deserve your anger. You have every right to be mad at me for leaving the way I did. For leaving you, with nothing but a letter-” At the sound of those words, Dean's eyes flew open. Had the letter been lost? “Hey, relax. It's in your back pocket. Your jeans are in my wardrobe, along with your shirt.” Sam cooed, letting a smile on his face. “So, as I was saying, you can get mad all you want.” Sam said, voice low.

 

 

“But Dean, you almost died, and there's no way I'll let you walk out of here, not before you can stand on your feet.” “Sam-” “Dean, even if you weren't hurt, I wouldn't let you go, so that you can spend your birthday driving down an endless road, all alone. And that's that. So, put it in that head of yours, you'll be staying here for at least a week, until you can drive again.” Sam stated, bringing the bottle before Dean's dry lips. “Small sips, okay?” Sam instructed, as he supported Dean's head with his free hand. The water was much welcomed by Dean's tired body and the man felt his muscles coming to life.

 

 

“So, this is your house?” Dean eventually asked, eyes once again closed. “Yeah... My roommate, Cris, helped me get you in here.” “Oh, so, he's here now-” “No, no, he took off after you were settled. His girlfriend got sick and he had to go to her.” Sam replied, while picking up the bowl with the water and the blooded gauzes. “How can you afford this place?” “I have a part-time job and I get by. I get paid every month and the money is good-” Sam paused then, as Dean's gaze pierced him. Sam could almost see the gears of his brother's mind turning, and knew what was coming.

 

 

“You have been sending me the money, haven't you? Every month, Bobby gives me money, money he can't afford to spend on me, money he can't earn as a hunter.” Dean stated, his voice low. Sam turned his face away. “Yes... I've been sending the money to Bobby and then he makes sure they get to you, Dean.” Sam admitted, eyeing his brother from across the room as he placed the bowl aside. Dean sighed, leaning on the pillows. “Ask me, Dean.” Sam whispered. The other man remained silent.

 

“Why didn't you wake me up when you left?” Dean finally muttered, eyes now open. “Because I couldn't bear to say goodbye. I didn't want you to see me walking away from you, Dean. I wanted you to see me walking towards you. I never want to have to say goodbye to you. I only want to say hello.” Sam confessed, voice low, yet filled with honesty. “You could say that now.” Dean whispered under his breath, letting his eyes find Sam's face. 

 

 

Sam's own eyes widened and he started walking towards Dean with slow, steady steps. He once again kneeled by Dean's side, his eyes glassy, his cheeks flushed. “Hello, Dean...” Sam muttered, leaning forwards, stopping only inches away from Dean's lips. “Hi there, Sammy...” Dean replied, letting his hand mess with brown locks, while his eyes posed a silent question. “Always Dean... Always and forever...” Sam replied, as he bend, meeting Dean's lips in a slow, gentle kiss. 

 

 

And that's how the first rays of sunlight found them, together once again, for their paths would always blend into one... Thus we have finally reached the end of the road. This is how the story of Sam's First Deal ends. That's the story of a Deal, which as the witch had predicted, was doomed to fail from the very beginning. Because love stands tall, and can overcome even the greatest of obstacles, if only people really put their faith in it. If people choose to believe in love and above all else, in one another. 

 

 

Now, Sam and Dean, have done just that. And yes, this sounds like one of those fairytales, in which love prevails and conquers all. Like one of those stories where, the couple reunites and they live happily ever after. But the lives of the Winchester brothers are nowhere close to a fairytale now, are they? No, of course not. But despite all the hardships, all the challenges, they have both always known, that in the end of the road, they would always find one another again. They have known, that nothing and no one could keep them apart for long. And for them, that is the happiest of endings.

 

And so, they kissed, softly and gently, under the early light of day. Needless to say, Dean couldn't have asked for a better birthday present... Needless to say, that over the years both brothers made more Deals, to save one another. They faced off against every shadow that crawled out of the depths of this world and they won. Needless to say, they drifted apart, yet always came back together. Needless to say, their love never faded away...

 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam muzzled as the brothers broke apart. “I did get you out of prison. I did pose as your lawyer.” Sam said, pride in his voice. “Yeah, well, get ready to pose as my cook too, because to say I am hungry is an understatement.” Dean replied, suppressing a laughter, which would hurt his ribs. “Oh, and go get me some pie.” He continued, voice serious. Sam shot him his best bitchface. “What? It's my birthday.” Dean shrugged, smiling widely. Sam waved his head, but returned the smile as he claimed his brother's lips again, under the warm, morning light. 

 

THE END...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and here our story ends... It was a great journey and I thank you so much for all your support! I know that the story is far from perfect. It has a tone of mistakes... But I will try to get better!  
> You will nwvwr know how much ha this story helped me, and how much ha your support helped me.  
> A 'thank you' means nothing, yet it's all I can say to each and every one of you. Thank you...   
> I hope that my story lit up your everyday life, even a litlle bit, and made you feel better!! :-)  
> Please, tell me what you think, if you want!  
> I hope that you enjoyed this long journey as much as I did! Thank you, yet again!  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!!! :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think if you have the time! I hope you enjoy this!  
> Thank you all!!


End file.
